


The Bone Interpreter

by stanleydoodles



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanleydoodles/pseuds/stanleydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on Fanfiction.net.</p><p> The flat of 221C becomes occupied by a woman that not only interests, irks, and draws the attention of the consulting detective who lives above her, but her past draws him into a circle of connections that he may not escape from. Sherlock/OC</p><p>Starts as a MarySue on purpose... bare with it please for the first couple chapters... its for a reason...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John Watson was sitting in his living room reading the morning paper. He turned the page and gave silent thanks for the silence that was so rare around their flat. He really did enjoy living at 221B Baker Street with his ,now, infamous flat mate, but sitting in the flat with out random gunfire, violin, chemicals burning through their kitchen table, or yelling from a very bored Sherlock was nice not to experience every now and then. A little bit of quiet was good to have; especially when Sherlock was off to God knows where.

John took a bite of his toast when he heard someone coming up the stairs.

"Yoo-hoo!" Said Mrs. Hudson rapping her fingers on the door and greeted John with a warm smile. "Oh John dear. I'm glad you're up. Where's Sherlock?"

"Haven't got the slightest clue?" John replied

"Oh good." She said looking slightly relieved.

John frowned and looked at his lankly with surprise and concern. That certainly wasn't the answer he had been expecting.

“Why? is everything okay?” he asked her before shutting his paper angrily, “Did he steal your knitting for experiments again? I told him not to do that…”

“No!” Mrs. Hudson dismissed before looking at him completely puzzled, “You know I have been wondering where my knitting had gotten off to… “ she frowned before looking back at John sheepishly, “I know, it sounds terrible of me for being relieved that he’s gone, isn't it dear?” she said looking sheepishly.

John raised his eyebrows at her. Mrs. Hudson always treated him and Sherlock like sons and had the utmost patience with Sherlock and the craziness that always ensued when he was around.

"I love that boy. Sherlock Holmes is a wonderful man, but I finally fixed up the basement and I have a potential renter coming and I don't want him scaring her off. I want to finally rent that place out after it took me so long to fix it up and all,” she admitted as she plopped herself down in the kitchen chair beside John.

John cracked a smile at the landlady and grabbed the older woman’s hand, squeezing it, "Mrs. Hudson, I don't blame you one bit."

***(*(@ &(#*@)**

Kyleigha huffed to herself and pulled her pea coat tighter around her body as she trotted down the streets London. Her dark auburn hair blew wind as she made her way through the cold and windy afternoon silently wishing to herself that she just would have gotten a cab.

“And I could have had a job in San Diego,” she muttered to herself bitterly, biting back her hatred of the cold as she turned the corner onto Baker Street.

She pulled out her phone and checked the address before knocking on the door at 221.

She nervously looked around. New City, new job, new life… this was what this was all about; a brand new start.

A kind looking lady answered the door with a warm smile. "Hello dear! You must be Miss Gibbs."

"Please call me Kylie,” she greeted back with a smile, “I'm assuming you're Mrs. Hudson?"

"That's me dear. Well aren't you the prettiest thing!" the lady said looking Kylie up and down.

 _Oh God, I hope she doesn't have any sons she wants to set me up with_ Kylie thought to herself as she felt a her cheeks begin to warm as a blush took over her cheeks.

Even though she commonly received comments like this, Kylie considered herself plain looking. She looked like the exact combination of her parents, nothing extravagant. Yet she always seemed to have comments like this follow her everywhere, which usually ended up with sweet older women trying to set her up with their sons, and a LOT of unwanted attention. She didn't really date…

_Well, not anymore…_

"Oh thank you, you're too kind." she replied politely putting a stray piece of hair behind her ear nervously.

"No really dear!" Mrs. Hudson paused as if a revelation hit her. "You're a model aren't you? Lord knows you're beautiful enough."

Kylie laughed, the thought striking her funny.

”Trust me, I am the farthest thing from a model.” she said before she saw how Mrs. Hudson was about to retort or comment about her beauty once more. "Do you mind if I take a look at the flat?" she said trying to change the topic as quickly as she could.

Mrs. Hudson shut her mouth with a frown and a puzzled look, then slightly shook her head with small smile and said "Of course dear! How rude of me not to even invite you in yet!”

She stepped back to allow her inside the hallway. Kylie stepped in and looked around at the quaint and homey looking living space. There was a narrow hallway lined with blue patterned wallpaper and a set of rickety looking stairs. Usually, she would have looked at the place with interest and unease, but for some reason that she couldn't quite put her finger on, Kylie felt completely at home… almost like she had lived there her entire life.

"Its just right down here, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said walking down the hallway a short ways and playing with the lock of 221C. She opened the door and Kylie walked in and looked around.

The walls had just been wallpapered and the flat was small, but delightfully comfortable. Kylie looked around for a few minuets while Mrs. Hudson went around saying things such as, ”I know its not much dear" and "Oh look at the state of this, I'll have that fixed up soon."

"I know its small but its…"

"I'll take it Mrs. Hudson,” Kylie said suddenly, facing her with a smile.

"Really?" Mrs. Hudson said as she looked at her, slightly taken aback.

"Of course! This flat is adorable and I'm a sucker for a fire place," Kylie stated with a smile.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and clapped her hand together happily, ”Wonderful dear! It will be great having another woman around!” she exclaimed as she beckoned her out of 221C and into the land lady’s own flat before she looked at her and added, “… and a beautiful one at that.”

Kylie blushed once more as Mrs. Hudson beckoned her to sit at the kitchen table as she made tea and began gathering up the paperwork.

“It will be so great having another woman around,” she said as Kylie began to flip through the paper work, “Right now it's just me and the boys."

"The boys?" Kylie asked as she signed the paper.

"Oh yes dear, two boys live in 221B.” she said with a wave of her hand before a thought crossed her mind, “I should introduce you!” she stated excitedly as she got up once more, “Though I should warn you ones a bit …off."

“Off?"

"Yes, well Sherlock, he's a bit of an eccentric, you know… Johns lovely though. Come on dear let me introduce you.” she said grabbing her and pulling her out the door and up the staircase.

"Oh Mrs. Hudson. I don't want to be a bother…"

"Oh nonsense dear! Yoo-hoo." she said rapping on the already open door. Kylie entered the flat and looked around with curiosity.

This was definitely a bachelor flat; messy yet somewhat kept together. There was a skull by the fireplace and two armchairs. A music stand in one corner and a cow skull mounted on the wall wearing headphones. Kylie smiled to herself; someone obviously had a sense of humor.

Upon hearing people enter his flat, and short blond man walked out of the kitchen to see who it was.

"Oh, hello.” the man said as he looked at Mrs. Hudson with confusion and wondering when his land lady had taken up bringing strange, yet beautiful women into his flat.

“John, this is your new neighbor and my newest tenant." Mrs. Hudson said with excitement.

John looked at her for a moment before it all clicked.

“Oh, right! 221C!” he said as he walked forward, smiling at her before he extended his hand, "John Watson. Lovely to meet you."

"Kylie Gibbs,” Kylie greeted as she took his hand, shaking it firmly, smiling at his return shake.

Shake of a solider…. firm and commanding.

“Lovely to meet you too,” she continued.

"You're American?" John said upon hearing her accent. "You been in Britain long?"

"Only arrived yesterday, “ she lied for some unknown reason, “I just got a job at…"

Kylie was cut off by someone bounding up the stairs and barging into the flat behind her. Upon seeing Mrs. Hudson eyes go wide and John stop and stare before rolling his eyes, she turned and saw something that made her heart stop.

A tall thin man with dark hair and stunning eyes was standing behind her. But that wasn't what made her heart stop. No, that was due to the fact that he was covered in blood and holding a harpoon as waltzed into the flat like it was normal occurrence, not even taking a moment to notice others in the flat.

"John I need a new case. PLEASE tell me we have a new case!” the man ranted manically as he took off his jacket and began tossing the harpoon side to side in boredom.

Kylie stood there in a slight shock at the man, a million thoughts forming in her mind. She only had a brief moment of consciousness before she realized that she wasn't going to be able to stop the words from flowing out of her mouth.

"I'm sorry is that human?”

The man looked at her, his light blue eyes piercing through her with his analytical stare that sent a shiver through her body.

The million thoughts that she had had turned into one…

_Oh God, I just signed a lease with a serial killer._


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry is that human?” said a voice that was definitely not John’s.

Sherlock heard the unfamiliar voice and whipped his head around to look at the intruder.

Standing next to Mrs. Hudson and John was a young woman, probably about 27 years old. Sherlock looked her up and down trying to analyze her as she gazed at him initially with shock, but upon seeing his face contort into utter confusion with her presence, smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. Her bright blue eyes now sparkling.

She was tall and athletic.

_Five foot ten._

_Runner? He couldn't tell…_

She was in very good shape. She cared about her body and fitness. Either that or it was stress relief.

Woman, her age and stature… statistically has to be obsessive over looks.

_Not that she needed to be…_

She was pretty. Very pretty, which irked him. He never really noticed beauty, but for some reason he couldn't take his eyes off this woman. Her long Auburn hair hung in loose, natural curls around her face.

Her hands weren't callused (as far as he could see from where he was currently standing).

_Doesn't work with her hands… Extremely good posture._

_Tall._

_In good physical shape._

_Aesthetically pleasing to the eye._

Sherlock thought to himself as his eyes fell to her boots, as he smiled.

_Leather._

_High heeled, well worn. In this weather?_

_Walks in heels often…_

_Career = Model._

_Definitely a model._

Sherlock smiled to himself as he remembered her accent.

_A model from America._

_Major metropolitan city._

_She would have to work_ _where fashion was._

_Statistically, New York is the best bet. Yes, New York._

"No, its from a pig." he replied comfortably now that he had figured her out.

His words seemed to make the woman smirk at him even more.

"Experiment" he supplied.

"Did you ride the tube like that?" John asked remembering an earlier text his flatmate had sent him.

"Had to,” he said with a slight bitterness, “None of the cabs would pick me up."

The man set down his harpoon and turned his attention the young woman in front of him.

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson said in a scolding tone. "You're making a mess! Why don't you go clean…"

“You," Sherlock said, completely ignoring Mrs. Hudson. "Just moved here."

“Yes," Kylie said slightly confused and taken aback, "I just signed the paperwork for the flat down stairs. I’m apparently your new neighbor.”

"Sherlock don't analyze her," John pleaded with the man and Kylie raised an eyebrow at him. "She's going to be our neighbor."

"Analyze me?" Kylie said looking back at the dark haired man.

“Wouldn't you want to know if she had a history of meth use, or a business of ferrets?”

“I have neither of those…” the woman began to argue.

“I know you don’t, I was just stating a hypothetical situation,” Sherlock replied as he looked at his flatmate.

“You already have analyzed her, obviously,” John argued, “You don’t need to be a drama queen and show off to the rest of the class!”

Sherlock frowned, “I don’t show off.”

“Yeah,” John said nodding as he tried to hold in his anger, “yeah, you do.”

“I’m sorry, analyze?” Kylie piped in.

"It's a party trick,” John stated immediately

"Its not a party trick,” Sherlock bit back.

“Yeah… that gives me answers,”Kylie responded.

"It's a thing he does by looking at you he can tell your life story." John said sighing to himself as he looked at his newest neighbor, seeing the intrigue on her face, and knowing what was about to come next. …This was not going to go well.

"Oh really?" Kylie said as she turned towards the detective, taking a few steps closer to him, her eyes sparkling with intrigue, "What do you think my life story is?"

"You work as a model. You just moved here from New York. Hence your…" he paused for a second to think of what to say, "…appearance."

John gave him a look. _Where in the hell did that come from?_

"You are decent at what you do, but not good enough to be on top which is most likely due to your lack of confidence in your appearance,” he continued.

 _Which I don't know why_. Sherlock found himself thinking before he mentally slapped himself and threw his mind back into the deduction once more.

He looked her over once more, his eyes trying to take in what they had missed before.

"The real reason you came to London though is to get away from something. Someone or something that nearly destroyed you,” he continued as he noticed her react.

He saw Kylie look down and saw the hurt in her eyes before he caught the wedding ring on a chain around her neck and pony-bead bracelet that she wore around her wrist. "You were married with a daughter. Both of them died, recently. You feel guilty it wasn't you and you ran away from the memory,” he said as he walked away, satisfied with his evaluation of her.

The room was silent before he turned back to see a solum looking Mrs. Hudson, an angry John, and Kylie fiddling with the bracelet and necklace. She looked up after a moment and gave him a small smile, "well…that was…..Interesting,” she told him in a quiet voice. "

Kylie, I'm sorry he didn't mean to be a complete ass," John said hoping his flat mate didn't completely mess up the relationship with their new neighbor.

"No, I asked him to."

"That's extremely rational." Sherlock said surprised she wasn't upset with him. Most people become suddenly upset with him when he analyzes them, but for some reason this girl did not feel the need to hold it against him.

"I'm a rational person." Kylie said with a small smile and a shrug. "Well I have some furniture to buy. I'd better be off. I’ll see you guys around. Thank you again Mrs. Hudson. I’ll be in touch.” And with that, Kylie descended the stairs and left 221B.

The room was in a heavy and tense silence as they heard the door to the street shut quietly. Sherlock looked between Mrs. Hudson and John who were both staring at him with disappointment.

He looked between them with confusion. “What?’

"Really?" John said angrily, "You can't control yourself for 5 minutes to be nice to the new girl?" "She asked me. What'd I do?" Sherlock asked confused. John stared at him a moment and before he looked at Mrs. Hudson with frustration and laughed as he shook his head in despair and threw up his hands "Forget it." he said walking out of the room.

Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson watched him go before the land lady looked at him.

"Really Sherlock, you could have been nicer to that poor girl. She really is a lovely young woman.” Mrs. Hudson said walking out of the flat and down the stairs."Also dear, will you clean yourself up a bit? You’ll get blood on the curtains." Sherlock looked down at his blood-covered hand and sighed to himself.

_I really need a case._

He took one last look at his harpoon in the corner before heading off to the bathroom for a much needed shower.


	3. Chapter 3

Detective Inspector Lestrade sighed to himself as he looked at the human remains in front of him. 

The body on his latest crime scene looked as if it had been burned to a crisp. Most likely to cover up the evidence in the very alleyway it was found… and it had worked, unfortunately. That’s all the evidence they had; the skeletal remains, a little bit of unscathed flesh, a lot of burnt flesh and the ashes of the clothes the person was wearing. The smell alone was horrendous, but the long night he saw ahead of him and the headache he knew he was going to get from the man he was about to call, was a new torture he had not wanted to experience today. He sighed once more as he finished his coffee, yearning for another with a shot of whiskey in it, before he reached for his phone.

"Oh bloody hell. You're not calling him are you?" Anderson said as he looked up at the DI as he bagged some of the ash he had been collecting from around the body.

"I have too. What other choice do I have" Lestrade replied as he dialed the all-too-familiar number.

**(@&@(@

Sherlock waltz onto the crime scene with an excitement in the air, towing a not quite as enthused John close behind him. 

"Hello Freak." Sergeant Donovan spat out as Sherlock and John crossed the tape into the alley.

"Sally." Sherlock droned as he made his way towards Lestrade and the body.

"You come to see your work first hand?" she quipped at him.

“No, I just came to see how you and Anderson are doing. You did spend the night at his place again didn't you. You used his shampoo.” Sherlock stopped and turned towards her taking a sniff in her general direction. "Showered this morning. Have you two gotten caught by his wife yet?" he asked with a smug smile on his face, glancing back at her before he kept walking, leaving Sergeant Donovan utterly speechless as he continued the short distance towards the body, which he noticed, was not quite a body.

The body they saw before them was a mangled mess of bone and burnt flesh. The smell alone was enough to make a man sick, but the sight was another story. The body was twisted and gruesome just as if someone had tortured the person before lighting them on fire and leaving them to die.

"Bloody Hell,” John muttered as they pair approached the body.

"Quite literally on this one,” Lestrade said hanging up the phone. "All of the evidence has been burned. Anderson can't find a single damn thing out of this mess."

"Anderson can’t find his way out of a shoe box let alone anything from a crime scene," Sherlock snapped taking out his magnifying glass and looking at the body.

"I'm right here you know." Anderson said walking up from behind them. "And trust me you arrogant sod, there's nothing here."

Sherlock scoffed, “There’s always something you miss, Anderson.”

“Sherlock,” John chastised, “Want to figure it out and take us through it instead of taunting everyone here?”

“He started it,” Sherlock muttered, causing Anderson to gape and throw up his hands in frustration.

Sherlock looked for a few more minuets before shutting his magnifying glass and standing up to face Lestrade "Have you identified the body at all?"

“No, No a bloody clue where to even start,” Lestrade said shaking his head. "We don't know sex, race, anything."

"Well," Sherlock said after gazing back at the body for a second more. "The only thing that I can get is that our victim is female until I get her back to Bart’s."

"How could you possibly tell that?" Anderson spat angrily.

"Honestly Anderson did you even go to Uni?” Sherlock asked as he shut his eyes in frustration before looking back at him, “The spread of the ilium in her pelvic girdle is much more flare. If the body were male, the pelvis would be much narrower. "

"That's all you got though?" Lestrade asked. "Usually you have the victims whole life story just by this glance."

Sherlock glowered as he was not pleased by this shot at his reputation, “Well, usually I have flesh, clothes, and overall appearance to make judgments off of. It is impossible to get more than the sex of a person from their skeleton."

“Oh, I wouldn't say that,” a strange voice said from behind.

Sherlock turned to see the auburn haired girl from the night before standing behind him. The woman wore a pair of tight jeans, stylish boots and a pea coat with a smirk plastered on her face.

"Kylie?" John asked in shock.

"Excuse me! Who the hell are you?" Sergeant Donovan said coming up from behind her.

"Hello John. Sherlock, " Kylie said nodding to each of the men as she smirked even more and walked forward, turning her attention to the DI. "And you must be Detective Inspector Lestrade,” Kylie said extending her hand towards him, completely ignoring the Sergeant behind her.

"Yes and you are?" Lestrade asked confused as ever.

"She's a model,” Sherlock said immediately before Kylie could even open her mouth, “She has completely no expertise of use for this scene and she doesn't belong here,” he said turning his attention back to the body and acted like no one else was there.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to Lestrade.

"I'm Kylie Gibbs. I'm your new forensic anthropologist." Kylie stated with a smile before turning back to Sherlock and adding "I'm far from a model. "

Sherlock's head snapped up so quick, Kylie thought he may have given himself whiplash.

"What?" Sherlock said looking her up and down once more. 

Forensic anthropologist? How on earth could he have missed that?

"Oh Dr. Gibbs!” Lestrade said as the name clicked, “We weren't expecting you until next week! I'm so glad you are here. Would you mind?" Lestrade motioned to the body in question.

"Of course." Kylie said while donning gloves out of her pocket, nudging Sherlock to the side, “Excuse me,” she grinned at him smugly, causing him to stare at her in shock as he was forced to step backwards. 

John stifled a laugh as Sherlock was nearly blown away by the woman’s forward nature. 

She knelt down and began examining the body, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes dramatically as she took in the body. 

"The victim was indeed female. White. Caucasian, mid-forties. Has 2, no three children." Kylie said as she squatted down to closer examine the remains. "Two natural births and one caesarian. She's an active woman. She was a college athlete of sorts, but she mostly runs now. Probably marathons. She also commonly plays tennis. My best bet to ID this woman would be to check the local tennis clubs for anyone whose gone missing."

Kylie stood up and removed her gloves before she turned around to see everyone, even Sherlock looking at her with their jaws slacked. 

She looked at the group with a raised eyebrow and shifted awkwardly in the silence.

It was silent until Anderson spoke up.

"How in God's name did you get that?"

”Simple really,” she stated with a smile, rubbing it in to Sherlock as much as she could, “Like Sherlock already told you, the spay of the ilium tells you the sex of the person. The ilium is substantially spayed and the arch of the pubis symphysis has been rounded out much more than for just one natural birth, hence two natural births. You are still able to see the bone repair on the pubic ramus, which is typical of a standard caesarean section in which the Dr. nicks the pubis. She has microfractures all the way up both of her tibias signaling that she had chronic shin splints and most likely kept running through it which is shown by the new bone that the osteocytes laid over it contain microfractures. Running through that kind of pain took determination and a will to finish what she started, a frame of mind usually shown in college athletes. The chronic and severe tendonitis shown in her tendon by the amount of scar tissue built up in her right elbow, but none in her left tells us that she plays tennis. Often."

The group was once again silent.

"That was amazing,” John said in shock as he laughed slightly, "Absolutely amazing.”

She blushed slightly at his praise. 

"My God. Its another Sherlock." Lestrade said to himself quietly then smiled at the woman. "They said you were good Dr. Gibbs, but no one said this good. I'll put a call out to all the tennis clubs." he told her as he pulled out his phone, punching numbers in and walking away, "We'll be in touch Doctor!”

Kylie turned and walked to where Sherlock (who had been extremely quiet since she had announced her career) and John were standing.

"Why don't you boys come over for dinner tonight. I'd love to discuss the case with you,” she said politely.

John opened his mouth to respond, but before he could Sherlock quietly asked, "What else did I get wrong?"

"Excuse me?" Kylie asked, obviously not expecting that response. 

"When I analyzed you, what else did I get wrong?" Sherlock said growing increasingly frustrated.

"Oh." Kylie said surprised and then replied with a smile, "Everything."

John grinned and surprisingly, so did Sherlock. He was beginning to like this woman. She was interesting.

She gave them one last smile and a wink before walking away and waving. 

"Hope to see you boys at dinner!" she called over her shoulder.

Sherlock and John watched her walk away. John laughed to himself about how much the woman was like his friend before he saw Sherlock smiling at her retreating form out of the corner of his eye. 

He smiled even more. 

My God, he fancies her…. 

He was completely wrong, was proved wrong, made a compete fool of, and yet he was still smiling.

"You fancy her don't you?" John said to his friend, savoring every moment of torturing him. 

John's words seem to snap Sherlock out of his trance. “What? Of course not, ” he said defiantly, wiping the smile off of his face and looking at her peculiarly ”She's …interesting…”

"Then how come you're blushing?" John said with a grin, “Have you even ever fancied anyone before?”

"Oh shut up." Sherlock snapped before he stalked off to find a cab.

John laughed. 

Oh, he was going to have fun with this.


	4. Chapter 4

Kylie’s iPod blasted from her speakers as she sang to herself, slightly dancing around 221C as she set up her new home. Despite the fact that she had pretty much bought everything in her new place, as when she had left she had crammed as much as she could into only a few suitcases before leaving as quickly as she could, it was beginning to feel like home. 

She had wanted to get out as quickly as she could, and habitually she grabbed photos and personal items rather than what she probably needed more to set up her new home. She was just thankful for the amount of money that she had saved since graduating; it had made affording some acceptable furniture and the necessities a lot easier. 

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. 

Put the past behind you. New home. New start. New life. 

It was over, that’s what mattered. She just had to fake that everything was okay until it actually was. And with starting her new job earlier than planned, that may be easier than she was expecting it to be. 

Kylie smiled to herself and hummed along to the song as she dusted off a picture of her and father at her college graduation. She hated lying to him and being this far away. They had grown nearly inseparable since he had retired from active duty in the marines. He had taught her nearly everything she knew and was her own personal hero. Hell, in college she had refused to go any farther than Virginia so that she could visit him as she pleased. 

She placed the picture lovingly on the small living room bookshelf as she heard the timer on the oven beep at her, drawing her attention away from the task at hand. 

She made her way over to the oven to check on the meal, pulling the chicken and vegetables out of the oven to check on the meal. 

Kylie sighed once more and put the meal back in the oven before she wandered back over to the small coffee table that held the photos of her life. 

She felt herself smile as she pulled out photos of her small, makeshift family she had formed over the years before she stumbled across a few photos of a tall handsome man holding her, smiling as he held her close to him. 

Kylie froze as she stared at the photo; fear and anxiety took over her body. She hadn't sorted through the photos yet. She had just grabbed it and ran, forgetting what was even in it. 

She slowly pulled the photos out of the album with a shaking hand, gazing at her own smiling face. 

She had been so unbelievably happy…

She shut her eyes

Past… thats your past. You have to hold your head high and move on.

Kylie nervously got up, pulling out the specific photos and wandering over to the fire place. She shut her eyes before she gazed at the photos once more. 

Past… put it behind you. You don’t have a choice anymore.

She tossed the photos into the flickering flames, watching the smiling faces become distorted as the pictures burned; destroying evidence of her past… her history…

Knock knock knock

Knuckles rapped on the doorframe, bringing her out of her thoughts. 

She turned around to see John and Sherlock standing in her doorway. 

Kylie stared at them in slight shock for a moment before she quickly covered up with a smile. 

“oh, hey guys,” she greeted as she wiped her eyes subtly to ensure she didn't have any tears in her eyes, “I wasn't sure if you guys would even come.”

She quickly walked forward and closed the photo album before the consulting detective’s prying eyes could take it in. 

“This a bad time?” John asked noticing her behavior. 

“Uh, no!” Kylie said with a smile as she picked up the album holding it to her chest firmly, “Make yourselves comfortable! I’m just going to go clean up a bit and dinner is just about ready.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure her out as she scampered back into the bedroom with the album. 

&^*(@(@*

Kylie threw the album on the bed and walked into her small bathroom, resting her hands on the sink before looking at herself in the mirror. 

She didn't look good. Her hair was a bit crazy as she had ran her hand through it many many times that day. Her father’s old sweat shirt and her yoga pants didn't help to accent her athletic frame. 

You just have to get through this. 

“Its over. Put a smile on your face, make new friends, start over,” she told her reflection, “You can do this.”

She stood up tall and took a breath. 

“You can do this,” she told herself once more before placing a smile back on her face and wandering back out into the living room. 

“I apologize for the mess,” she said as she rounded the corner, “I’ve spent nearly all day trying to get this place into a home…”

She stopped in her tracks as she looked up to see Sherlock bent over and sorting through the pictures on her bookshelf, obviously snooping, as John sat on the couch with his head in his hands.

Sherlock straightened and looked at her as if nothing had happened as she just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“So… you guys want dinner?” she asked, not really knowing what to say. 

“Yes, I would love some,” John said as he looked up at her and smiled, thankful that she wasn't making a big deal about catching Sherlock snooping through her personal items. 

Kylie smiled at John as she made her way to the oven, pulling out the food and beginning to dish up the meal onto plates. 

“Sherlock do you want some?” she asked as she turned back to see him slyly trying to open up a closet door and John silently trying to get him to stop, “Or would you just like to snoop through my underwear drawer?”

“I don’t eat while on cases,” he said as he looked at her and continued making his way through the flat, “Digestion slows my thinking.” He paused as he looked around, “Though if you were to grant me access, I wouldn't be opposed to it.”

“Wait, WHAT?” John gaped at his friend. 

Sherlock looked at him, not realizing the implications of what he had said, before it clicked and shifted awkwardly before he caught Kylie smiling at him in amusement. 

He just cleared his throat and turned back to snooping, “You know what I meant.”

Kylie smiled and handed John his plate, as he took it gratefully. 

“Smells amazing Kylie,” he said as dug him, Kylie taking a seat on the couch across from him. 

“Thanks. Family recipe,” she smiled at him as she turned and looked back at Sherlock who was now studying her mantle piece.

“Oh!” John said in the middle of a bite, putting the file he had next to him on the table, “Lestrade gave us the case file for you to look over.” 

Kylie took a bite of her food as she pulled the file towards her, trying to ignore Sherlock was slowly moving down the hall towards her bedroom and bathroom. 

“Stay out of my room Sherlock,” Kylie said loudly as she read through the file. 

She sensed him stopping in his tracks and looking back at her. Kylie glanced up from the file to see John smiling at his friend in a smart alec fashion from across the room. 

Kylie grinned before returning her attention to the file. 

There was nothing really note worthy in the file other than the fact that they had identified the victim as Patricia “Patty” Mayberry. 

"You were right." John said referring to the case file. "Lestrade was able to track her down based on the tennis club theory. The victim belonged to Holland Park Lawn tennis club. "

"Is it exclusive?" Kylie asked as she casually took a bite of her dinner, “My bet is she's a trophy wife.”

Sherlock stopped analyzing to turn and look at her while John looked up, a little shocked.

“Yeah," John said slowly looking at Kylie confused, “Yeah, its one of the most exclusive clubs there is. Only the wealthiest in London can afford to belong there."

"Hmm." Kylie said never looking up from the file.

John looked at Sherlock before looking back at Kylie in amazement. 

"How did you figure she's a trophy wife?" John asked, "We only just figured that out."

"You just figured that out." Sherlock stated never taking his eyes off Kylie. 

Kylie shrugged as she swallowed her bite and leaned back on the couch, 

"Extremely fit woman, body burned, tennis player? That most likely tells us that she has nothing better to do than workout. She obviously wasn't a cop or had a physical job. If she was a cop, she'd have many more injuries than the ones I saw from her remains, and her job wasn't physical because, lets be real… who do you know who belongs to a tennis club and has a blue-collar job?" Kylie paused to take a drink of water. “Plus, with the body being burned indicates a crime of passion.”

John paused and looked at her taken aback for a moment. 

”The killer could have been trying to destroy the evidence. I mean we did find practically nothing at the crime scene,” he argued.

“True, but the fact that the crime scene was s clean tells us that the killer probably had help. The kind that you pay for to cover things up. Plus in the top 15% of wealth, the most common crime is a crime of passion. I mean who has the clarity to calmly kill someone in the middle of the street without anyone seeing as well as having sense to burn the body and leave without anyone noticing, other than a man for hire and instructed to do so?”

John's mouth was slack, his fork held halfway up to his mouth. Sure, he was used to this kind of thing from Sherlock… but, he never thought he'd see the day where there were two Sherlocks.

Sherlock on the other hand, was pleased with woman as he fought a smirk on his face. She had figured out almost…almost…. everything he had already deduced. She was good, very good; but he was still better. He had been wrong about her at first and that was…well, how could he put it? … Blatantly stupid. He still did not understand how his deductions could have been so wrong. 

"Did you guys find anything else?" Kylie asked.

"The husband is Edmund Mayberry,” Sherlock stated as he began looking around once more. 

"The owner of Mayberry pharmaceuticals?" Kylie asked as she turned to look at him. 

"You've heard of them?" John asked somewhat surprised.

"Yeah," Kylie said picking her plate back up and walking it over to the sink, ”They're one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world."

"Yes," Sherlock said as he poked his head down the hall trying to glance into her bedroom as her back was turned, “Lately, he's been appearing on TV his clothing has been baggy and he has been wearing makeup under his eyes to hide the fact that he has not been sleeping."

"You think he's ill?" Kylie asked as she turned around, barely missing Sherlock snooping again. 

“No, he's hiding something,” he stated as he walked past the kitchen, grabbing a green bean out of the pan and popping it in his mouth. 

"You think he did it?"

"No, but I think that what he is hiding has something to do with her death."

“Great, so lets go talk to him." Kylie said a sparkling appearing in her eye once more.

"We tried," John interjected as he finished his meal, "It turns out having a very expensive lawyer and high levels of security pays off."

"Great." Kylie said sarcastically, "So, how do we talk to him?"

"Lestrade's getting a warrant," Sherlock said as he took to looking at the bookshelf once more, "We should be able to talk to him tomorrow."

“Good," Kylie said as she sat back down on the couch. 

There was a comfortable pause for a second before Sherlock turned around and stared at Kylie intently, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him.

"What was I wrong about?" Sherlock asked her.

She smiled at him slightly, ”I'm sorry?"

"My deduction." Sherlock said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What was I wrong about?"

"Oh, that,” Kylie said with a smile, “I’m sorry, I didn't know which time you meant.”

Sherlock glowered at her, which caused her to smile even more. 

“Oh, I don't know, you seem fairly certain about yourself now. You have my whole flat to analyze. You tell me,” she smiled at him.

Sherlock couldn’t help but smirk. Despite the shot at his reputation, he liked how this girl worked.

"I was wrong about your career. I was also wrong about where you lived before you came to London."

Kylie gave him a slight smile. "Where did I come from then?"

"Washington D.C."

"Very good Mr. Holmes." Kylie said leaning forward slightly after folding her legs beneath her on the couch. "What else?"

"You and your father are also close, very close. He's a military man. Not high ranking, but known for his courage and valor. You look up to him. Most likely tried to follow in his footsteps. My guess, he now works as a cop or detective after he retired from the service. That's how you became interested in forensics and forensic anthropology."

"Correct on all fronts. He works for the NCIS."

"NCIS?" John asked.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Kylie informed him. "They investigate all crimes associated with the Navy and their families."

"I was also wrong abut why you left." Sherlock said never taking his eyes off of Kylie.

Kylie looked at him, a smile no longer on her face.

"Sherlock," John said warningly, sensing where this was heading. 

"It wasn't your husband and daughter who were killed, it was your mother and sister. You wear your mother's wedding ring around your neck and a bracelet your sister made you around your wrist. They were killed, a while ago by seeing how the ring around your neck hasn't been worn in a while, yet you still feel responsible for their death."

Kylie looked down and tried to keep her emotions under control. He’d nailed it right on the head… what’d she expect though?

"Ah. But that's not why you left the States,” Sherlock said continuing his analysis as he walked forward, “No, you left for another reason. Old boyfriend?"

Kylie kept staring at him. Her pulse quickened as she shrunk back into her self slightly, trying desperately to hide her discomfort and stay strong. 

"He hurt you,” Sherlock said quietly, slowly coming over to where Kylie sat and sitting down on the couch next to her, never breaking eye contact as he kept reading her body language, figuring out what had happened. "He hurt you badly. Both physically and emotionally."

Kylie felt a tear fall off of her chin and land on her hand that was resting in her lap. She didn't even realize that she was crying, but she was cracking as he read her. He was reading her like a book, and she didn't need that right now. Every bone in her body was telling her to run, run as fast as she could before he could say anymore. She didn't need her past coming up and really did not want to drag him into her wormhole of a past. But she knew she couldn’t. She had to stay here. She had egged him on and she just needed to hide it. 

"Right on all accounts,” she said quietly as she gave him a small smile.

John sat watching the scene play out with amazement as he looked between the unblinking stare that his flatmate was giving the woman’s flat that they were in. He had never seen Sherlock act this….this…human towards anyone he had met this recently. He actually looked like he felt empathy towards the woman, instead of rubbing his deduction blindly in her face before leaving in a cloud of smugness. Not to mention, John could have sworn he saw Sherlock's hand move up to wipe a tear from her eye before he realized what he was doing and brought it quickly back down. He had, in all the time he'd known his friend, he'd never seen him act this way. 

Oh, he definitely fancies her.

John cleared his throat, breaking the trance Kylie and Sherlock had been in, causing them to both look at him in shock. 

“Well, it's getting late,” Kylie said trying to cover up her emotions and wiping her eyes quickly.

“Right," Sherlock said awkwardly as he stared at the floor for a moment before he suddenly stood up from the couch and walking out of the flat without another word.

Kylie and John just watched the man walk out of the flat.

John sighed as he stared at where his flatmate had been a moment ago.

“Right.”

Couldn't Sherlock behave himself for once? Ask the woman out like a normal bloke?

"Well, see you later then?” John asked as he stood up.

Kylie gave him a small smile, "Of course."

"Thank you for dinner Kylie."

"Goodnight John."

“Night!” he said as he walked out the door.

Kylie got up and shut the door behind the doctor before she turned around and leaned on the door staring at the floor in complete and utter shock.

What on earth just happened?


	5. Chapter 5

Kylie took off running down the streets of London with her ipod blaring at full blast, attempting to tune out the rest of the world around her as she put in her miles for the day. A red light barred her from continuing, so she took the opportunity to bed over, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. 

Only mile five? And I’m already feeling it? Damn, those two weeks screwed me… in more ways than one… 

She coughed, cursing the smoke and smog of the London air that was already getting in the way of her run. 

 

Why didn't I just move to San Diego with beaches and clean, fresh air?

Why?… you know why…

She stood up and shut her eyes, trying to stop the thoughts running rampant in her mind once more. 

She opened her eyes to see the walk indicator flashing before her, making her take off once more, increasing the pace until reality just became a blur and the only thing that she could focus on were her thoughts, and the burning in her lungs and legs. 

Running had always been therapeutic for Kylie, ever since she was in junior high. Whenever she was stress, angry, or just needed to clear her head, she would run. It wasn't until late high school and her early college career that she had begun to discover yoga as well, fitting that into her daily regime. She found that the combination between the Eastern branch of exercise and mediation combined with running was an optimal mixture for her body and mind. 

Most people worked out to stay in shape or lose weight, but Kylie used running and yoga to cope. Her job was stressful; dealing with catching killers as well as dealing with grieving families, danger, and a lot of sadness, running and yoga were her go to’s after a long hard day. It was time to herself and she knew she always had to make time for it to stay sane. 

Typically, when she ran, her thoughts had a way of sorting themselves out until her mind was completely blank and peaceful, but today she found her thoughts wandering to that of her life in the last forty-eight hours.

A little over forty-eight hours ago, she and been holed up in a hotel room that she had barely left in Eastern London, scouring the internet for a place to live. In that time, she had seen a flat, gotten a flat, met her neighbors, bought furniture, crashed a crime scene, caught a case, wow-ed boss, showed up the local big-shot, unpacked, set up her flat, had company over, and gotten lost in a stranger’s eye. 

God, what in the HELL happened last night?

One minute she had been sitting on the couch listening to the tall, dark-haired detective talk, and the next thing she knew, she had allowed a tear to escape and Sherlock was right there next to her. 

She couldn't put her finger on it, but there had been something extremely strange with the dark-haired man. His light blue eyes pierced through her straight down to her soul. It was as if he could see straight down into the very core of her. It should scare her, and it did, but she felt somehow entranced by the man. He was brilliant. He saw through everyone and everything in seconds, yet he had read her wrong until he had had her entire flat to go off of. She had a habit of messing with men’s (especially those with incredibly large) egos for kicks and couldn't resist messing with his, but once more… he was… different… 

He seemed to smile after only glaring for a moment when she threw things back at him, almost amused at her cleverness. But nothing had compared to that look he had given her when he had sat next to her on the couch. 

Dear Lord….

He had read her like a book, seeing nearly everything she had been trying to keep hidden in an instant. His eyes had bared through her like a power holding her in place until she had felt that tear hit her hand. She had been struggling to hold a poker face, not knowing that her eyes had been giving her away, when she had seen his face soften towards her with empathy. The look said a thousand things and had sent a shiver down her spine. But the strangest part was, he had looked at her as if she had been the only thing in the world that was of his interest at that very moment up until his flatmate had made a noise. 

She knew she was just being absurd, of course. She had just met the man, and with what she had gathered from her short time at Scotland Yard that morning, was that he was short-tempered, extremely bright, an enormous asshole, and emotionless as well as out of touch with human empathy. 

… and yet, she had seen what she had seen last night…

Oh good GOD Kylie! Snap out of it! You are NOT doing this… you know what thinking about men on your runs means. You know what this leads to… something that cannot happen right now. You just had a weird moment there, where his gorgeous blue eyes were staring into yours while you felt safe for the first time in weeks….

…OH SERIOUSLY?!?!

She shook her head as she pressed harder in frustration with her own mind. She didn't do this. This wasn't her. She just needed to get back to normalcy; normalcy and a new start. 

Kylie slowed as she reached 221 Baker Street and inserted her key in the door just as her phone rang. Kylie shut the door as she looked at the caller ID. 

SCOTLAND YARD.

She smiled.

Lestrade's calling already.

“Gibbs," she answered the call as she walked to her flat and setting down her keys in the bowl by the door.

"Dr. Gibbs! Greg Lestrade. Listen, I was wondering if you would come back down to Scotland Yard? When I spoke to your old supervisor at the FBI, he told me you excelled in interrogation…”

Kylie rolled her eyes. 

Damn Lancaster and his big mouth…

“…anyhow, we have the Husband in here and I have to say, I would like to see what you can do with the living as well as the dead.”

She smiled to herself. 

Day one. Already…

“Of course,” she replied, “I would also like to have another look at the remains if you don’t mind.”

“Why would I?” Lestrade joked, “That’s your area now, isn't it?”

She laughed, “Fair enough. I just got back from a run. I’ll be there in half hour.”

“Sounds good. Oh! And I should warn you, I’m going to bring Sherlock in on this one as well.”

Kylie pause and smiled to herself as a thought crossed her mind. 

“Can you do me a favor and give me twenty minutes before you call him? I’d like to have a head start. You know, throw him off his game a little.”

Lestrade smiled to himself on the other end of the line. This was by far the best hire he had ever made. The woman’s reputation proceeded her. She was quick-witted, intelligent, was going to help him increase his arrest rate, and could give it right back to Sherlock; needless to say, the woman was nothing less of a dream. 

"If it means throwing Sherlock for a loop, I'm in."

"Thank you Inspector."

"See you soon."

&^#*(@(#@*

Bored

Bored 

Bored

Bored

Bored

Bored was the one word that kept echoing through the mind of Sherlock Holmes as he sat by the fire, carelessly plucking his violin as he waited by the phone. 

Sure, he had a case, but his hands were tied until Lestrade could get the husband to talk to him or get a search warrant… this was the part that he hated; waiting by the phone. 

He heard someone walk in the door with a phone ringing, distracting his raging mind for a moment. 

Kylie.

He listened to her tone. 

Laughing and light tone. Too early to be Lestrade. No one jokes with their boss that early on. Someone from America most likely. 

He shut his eyes and began plucking his violin once more, attempting to pass the time once more. 

His over active mind began to focus on the last thing on his mind, which had happened to be the woman in 221C. 

Kylie… now, there was an interesting thought. Sherlock was, for once in his life, completely puzzled by this woman. She was intriguing; much more intriguing than anyone else he had met. Sure, Irene Adler had been interesting, but The Woman had played her hand far too early, allowing him to win easily in the end, despite the cost to his brother. 

The auburn-haired woman on the other hand… she was striking. She had fooled him upon his first impression of her.

Stupid!

He should have seen it.

The woman had rubbed it smugly in his face, which usually would have pissed him off into the next decade, but he had found himself smiling at her smart alec nature. How?! How had he found her fooling him and arrogantly embarrassing him somewhat funny?

Because it was clever… very clever…

That was true… fortunately, or unfortunately (he honestly didn't know anymore). She read skeletal remains like he read the rest of the world. The only person he knew that was just as good as him, if not better (but he would never admit that) was his brother. Then, out of the blue, came this woman. Despite the fact that he did not appreciate her comments, she was a challenge… someone for him to beat… and that, right there, interested him. 

Last night though… last night he had seen something else in her that he had not seen upon that first meeting. He had been wrong about most things (her career, where she came from, the source of the ring and bracelet…) but the one thing that he had seen this time that he hadn't seen last was fear. Fear ate at her the moment he had spotted her tossing photos in the fireplace, giving him the idea that she was getting rid of evidence of a jilted ex-lover. No one burnt family pictures…

Well, not unless you were him…

But it was strange. This strong, intelligent woman had been so good at covering up her pain, that he hadn't seen it until he and John had caught her burning the pictures. Then it had been gone just as quickly as it had come, up until he had begun deducing her. 

He was missing something about her. She was hiding something deep down inside of her… something he still had to figure out. He saw it in her eyes. 

RING RING RING

Sherlock was startled out of his train of thought by the sound of his phone going off. One glance at the caller ID and a smile came over his face. 

“Lestrade,” he answered with a grin, “Husband in for questioning yet?”

He waited for the response before he stood up, setting his violin down in the corner before he hopped up.

“On our way,” he stated before he hung up the phone, pocketing it immediately as he grabbed his coat and scarf. 

“JOHN!”

"What in the bloody hell…" John said walking into the living room.

"The Husbands down at Scotland Yard. Grab your coat,” he said heading for the door while John begrudgingly grabbed his jacket, muttering something under his breath.

Sherlock glanced back and took in his appearance as he put his hand on the doorknob. 

Shirt pressed.

Shaved.

Actually put on after-shave.

Trying to make an impression.

Date tonight.

Smiling to himself, Sherlock began to open their front door and began to walk out while stating, "Your date can…"

He stopped mid sentence as he had turned around, as something had shocked him enough to stop. 

There, standing right in front of their door, hands clasp behind her back wearing her coat and a grin, was Kylie.

Sherlock stopped and stared at her with a frown, "Can I help you?” he asked as he was wondering why she was hanging out in front of their door.

"Yes, I'd like to invite you to Scotland Yard to assist with the Mayberry case. The husbands been brought in for questioning,” she told him politely and professionally. 

Sherlock frowned even more in offense, before he flat out laughed at her. 

She MUST be kidding.

"I'm sorry. YOU would like to invite ME to Scotland Yard to help with a case?"

Kylie gave him a questioning look as her face pointed to the fact that she was saying this will all seriousness, "Yeess, that's what I said now wasn't it?"

He laughed again, trying to see if she would break. But she just looked at him, puzzled by his humor. 

His face fell. 

Not joking.

His laughter turned into shock, turned into rage. She was seriously inviting him to assist?!

ASSIST?!

Sherlock was fuming and rounded on Kylie fully, the woman not moving a muscle, as she held her poker face.

"Since when do they let amateurs play where the experts should be?” Sherlock bit back at her.

There was an instant sparkle in Kylie's eyes, as a grin spread out over her face.

"That was my point exactly, that's why I'm inviting the amateur to come see how the experts do it,” she smiled at him politely.

Sherlock looked like a fish out of water as blatant shock ran through him. People hate him. He was used to being told to ‘piss off’ and being called names, but no one… and he meant NO ONE, had ever doubted his intelligence. 

His eyes still filled with pure rage, and there were a thousand things that he wanted to say to the woman, but for once in his life, Sherlock Holmes was speechless.

With a quick smile, Kylie turned on her heel and proceeded down the stairs leaving a stunned Sherlock and extremely amused John at the door of 221B.

"Are you boys coming or not?" she called over her shoulder as she walked out the front door, “the invitation wont be open long!”

Sherlock just glared at the front door closing as John walked up beside him.

Sherlock just turned and looked at his flatmate, anger and shock holding his words back. 

“Oh yeah,” John smirked as he looked at his friend before he descended the staircase after her, “You totally fancy her,” he called back up the stairs at the speechless, fuming, and shocked detective. 

This woman had become a whole lot less interesting, and exponentially more annoying….


	6. Chapter 6

John and Kylie shared a cab over to the new Scotland Yard, as Sherlock had taken his own after stomping down the stairs, slamming the door shut like a child, and muttering under his breath before refusing to get into the same cab as them; all based on the childish fact that he was fuming at them. 

Kylie had just grinned in amusement as Sherlock had climbed into the cab before yelling at John to take the next one and furiously slamming the door shut in his face. 

It had taken a few moments for them to find another and for John to calm down, but he did eventually find Kylie’s sense of humor with his roommate funny after a moment. 

They now sat in a comfortable silence as they rode in the cab together. 

“I think you may have been the first person, ever, to do that sort of thing to Sherlock,” he stated out of the blue. 

Kylie turned and smiled at him. The Doctor had emerged from 221B extremely amused and only took a few comments and minutes for him to get over Sherlock’s fit about the cab. 

She had no idea why, but messing with the man who saw through everything and every one in seconds was by far the most fun she had had in years. And Lord, knows she needed the distraction and entertainment. 

“You think I was too hard on him?” she asked slightly sheepishly. 

“Oh heavens no,” John laughed, “Its good for him.”

She laughed and ran a hand through her hair, “Don’t get me wrong, this is the most fun Ive had in ages, but I did take the man’s ego down a notch, and then called him an amateur. I cant stop myself sometimes. But I almost… just almost feel bad for the poor guy.”

“Trust me,” John said pointedly as he looked at her, “If there is one thing that that man needs, its for his ego to be taken down a bit.”

Kylie chuckled and grinned at the man. She was becoming quite fond of the doctor. She could immediately tell that he was true to his friend through both thick and thin. Sherlock didn't seem to be an easy person for everyone to get along with, from what she had heard at the Yard and yet, the two seemed inseparable. It was to the point where the land lady thought that they were actually dating, which humored Kylie.

She didn't know if it was the fact that he was so faithful and true to his friend, or the fact that he was military man that made her feel so comfortable with him. But in a way, Dr. Watson reminded her a lot of her father. 

"He's not an amateur though." John said snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh…yeah I know." Kylie said while running a hand through her hair. "He's brilliant.” She smiled before she turned to the Doctor, the sparkle in her blue eyes once again returning, "But who could resist messing with his head?”  
John laughed as their cab slowed and grabbed a note out of his wallet handing it to the driver while shushing an objecting Kylie.

"You just gave me ammunition against Sherlock, the least I can do is pay for your cab fare."

“Chivalry does still exist,” she chided as she got out of the cab. 

She stepped out into the crisp London air as she looked at the new Scotland Yard for the second time that day. 

Just as John was joining her on the curb, a second cab pulled up as the driver and the occupant exchanged a few angry words, before an angry looking Sherlock emerged from the cab. 

“You don’t even know your way around London and you call yourself a cabbie!” he said before he slammed the door shut, ignoring the driver cursing at him. 

He stopped and looked at a shocked and amused Kylie and John before angrily brooding to himself once more and stomping into the building. 

Kylie glanced at John as the two of them watched Sherlock's retreating form.

“Must have taken a wrong turn or two,” she commented as both the cabs drove off.

“Must have. He left nearly three minutes before us and he knows London like the back of his hand.”

“Impressive,” Kylie stated as they fell into silence once more. 

“You think we should warn Lestrade that he’s in a mood?” she asked after a moment. 

“Trust me,” John told her as he straightened his jacket, “he just assumes by now.”

*((*@@(*@

Lestrade stood behind the one-way mirror of the interrogation room watching Edmund Mayberry. The man looked…bored. Not nervous at all, just bored. Either he was a psychopathic son of a bitch, or just egotistical. Either way, Lestrade knew he was their guy. 

Now, he just needed his new forensic anthropologist and consulting detective to prove it… that is ,if they didn't kill each other first.

He smiled to himself; Kylie seemed to be handling Sherlock remarkably well. Though he did not believe it went both ways. Sherlock had never been challenged by any other human being, well except Moriarty with that bombing incident. But then again, Lestrade highly doubted that that particular psychopath was actually human.

“Where is he?” Sherlock said as he burst through the viewing room.

Lestrade just looked at him and raised an eyebrow at him, not impressed with his mood. 

“WELL?” he asked. 

“Did Kylie and John come with you?” Lestrade asked calmly. 

Sherlock glared at him before he looked at viewing window, seeing the man behind the glass. 

“Freaks are here,” Donovan said as she walked in with Kylie and John right behind her before she noticed Sherlock standing there, “Oh, the main freak’s already here.”

Sherlock turned and glared at her as Kylie looked at her in surprise. 

“You are the one sleeping with ‘helmet hair’,” Kylie scoffed, “The lady sleeping with a married man, calls the most brilliant man in the room a ‘freak’, how ironic…”

Donovan turned to stare at her questioningly. 

“He tell you to say that?” Donovan asked her, looking her up and down. 

“No, your shampoo did,” Kylie told her with a smile. 

Donovan stared at her for a moment before storming out of the room in frustration. 

Lestrade watched his Sergeant go, before turning to look at Kylie, noticing Sherlock looking at her with a confusion on his face; as if he couldn't figure out why on earth she had stood up for him.

“You really figure that out by what shampoo she uses?” Lestrade asked, shocked with his new hire once more. 

“No,” Kylie said simply, “Heard Sherlock say it yesterday, and I dont like the word ‘freak’.”

John smirked to himself, seeing what Kylie was doing.

“Well,” Kylie said clapping her hands together, “we aren’t getting anything out of just watching him.”

“Right!” Lestrade said as he handed her the file. 

Kylie took it from him with a smile as she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. 

Sherlock watched the scene play out in total shock.

“Her? You are letting HER interrogate the suspect?” he asked, nearly seething. 

“Yes,” Lestrade argued back.

“She’s an anthropologist!”

“Like you, she’s brilliant. Unlike you, she works for the Yard, has had specialized training in interrogation from the FBI, and doesn't have a habit of pissing off the people around them constantly.”

“I would like to point out that…” Sherlock began before John cut him off. 

“Pissing you off doesn't count, Sherlock,” he said flatly. 

“I am a person!”

“Yes, but there’s a saying that says ‘what goes around, comes around’,” John smiled back at his friend. 

Sherlock just stared at him for a moment. 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh Lord…” John sighed. 

“She’ll get information out of them Sherlock!” Lestrade inputted once more, “You’d just annoy them until they clam up and ask for a lawyer…”

“At least I’d have had enough to deduce…”

“SHUT UP!” both Lestrade and John yelled at him. 

Sherlock glared at the glass window in front of him before turning and muttering under his breath. 

Lestrade wasn't sure, but he thought he had heard him mutter something about “amateur” and “showoff”.

The three men watched Kylie enter the room. Lestrade had heard about this girl’s skills other than looking at bones and pissing off his on-hand consulting detective. She'd worked with the FBI on countless occasions and heard that she was one of the best interrogators that they had, even though she was not an agent. She had no "official" training, though growing up with her father probably taught her a thing or two about it.

He pressed a button on the mirror frame and the sounds of the conversation filled the room.

"Mr. Mayberry you do realize that you have waved having your lawyer present?" Kylie stated as she stood in the corner with the file observing the man at the table.

"Yes, yes. Annoying sod that one is," he said as he waved his hands in annoyance, "Expensive as hell too."

"Well if he did do it, he's arrogant." John commented.

The group watched as Kylie then walked to the chair opposite of Edmund Mayberry and took a seat the file in front of her and hands folded on top of the file before calmly staring back at him. 

"Mr. Mayberry, where were you on the 5th between 5 and 9 pm?"

Mayberry looked at her in shock before laughing. 

”Seriously? You're asking me for my alibi?"

"Just answer the question."

"Really? You REALLY think I killed my wife."

"I never said that. I just asked where you were on the night of the 5th between the hours of 5 and 9 pm?” Kylie stated calmly once more.

"Do you even know who I am?" Mr. Mayberry stated as he begin to get up from his chair.

"Sit down Mr. Mayberry," Kylie said warningly as she leaned back in her chair picking up the file and beginning to read it lazily.

“I am one of the most powerful men in Britain…”

“I said, sit down…”

“I can have your neck in an instant…”

“Last warning. Sit. Down.”

"I will let you know that I will have…OOF" suddenly Kylie had shoved the metal table with her foot right at the screaming man and the very corner of the metal table had hit him dead square in the crotch, causing him to double over in pain before falling to the floor.

"I told you to sit down Mr. Mayberry," Kylie said as she sighed, folding the file and placing it on the table. She slowly stood back up and walked over to where the man laid squatting down next to him, “These tables can be awfully slippery on these floors.”

"Now, I’m going to ask you again. Where were you on the night of the 5th between the hours of 5 and 9 pm?"

"Hhh-home," the man was able to get out.

"Cooouuld anyone verify that for me?" Kylie asked. 

The man just continued to whimper on the floor. 

Kylie just looked at him and sighed before she helped pick him up off the floor and help him back into his chair, where he sat, bent over and still whimpering in pain. 

“I am really sorry about that accident. We had someone else have that happen JUST last week.”

Mayberry rocked back and forth slightly, trying to dull his pain. 

“So… is there anyone who can verify the fact that you were home on the night of the fifth?”

“I want my lawyer! This is police brutality!” he whimpered.

A smirk came over Kylie’s face as she looked at the reflective glass of the one-way mirror before she carefully placed a hand on the back of Mayberry’s chair and leaned down and whispered something in his ear. 

John leaned closer as he strained his ears to hear. It didn't sound as if the microphone in the room was picking it up. 

“What’d she say?” he asked before they all saw Mayberry’s eyes widen before he looked at her with slight shock and fear before he looked back at the table. 

“Cynthia Pemburton,” he finally told her quietly. 

Kylie smiled once more and grabbed the file with out another word before walking out of the room all together.

“Well…that was…” John began.

“Different?” Lestrade supplied. 

The observation room door opened and Kylie walked into the room.

"He didn't do it. Let him go," she told Lestrade.

“Wait, what? How the hell did you get that?" Lestrade asked. He really did not want to let this guy go. He just wanted the file off his desk and the case to be closed.

"The bruise on his neck," Sherlock stated as he continued to stare at the man in the room, “That, and the slight smudge of lipstick on his shirt collar."

Lestrade then rounded on the detective. "You said he was hiding something! Now you believe an alibi he makes up?"

"You don't see you don't observe!” Sherlock said as he shut his eyes in exasperation, “How do you not see it! He was hiding something!"

John and Lestrade all looked puzzled until Kylie stated, "An affair."

"Affair?" John asked, looking back at the man, not having caught it at all. 

"The bruise on his neck has a small indent in the bruise pattern indicating that whomever bit and bruised Mr. Mayberry's neck had a small gap in between her teeth. Also no woman in their mid-forties wear that horrible shade of pink, not even a trophies wife. It's a much younger woman's shade. My guess is that this Cynthia Pemburton is about mid-twenties and works for him somehow." Kylie stated.

Lestrade just looked at Kylie for a moment before he turned and looked at Sherlock. "You see. This is why I like this girl. She explains things to me instead of huff about and call me an idiot because I'm not as clever as she is."

Kylie felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks as Sherlock rolled his eyes and glowered once more.

God, she hated being the center of attention…

"Right well, may I see the remains again?" Kylie asked Lestrade.

“Yeah, the remains are at Bart's." Lestrade stated as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll go pick up the mistress while you lot go get us more evidence."

And with that, Lestrade left the room. 

“Well,” Kylie turned and smiled at the two men, “You two want to come and look at a dead lady with me?” 

A very small smirk over came Sherlock’s face as he cocked an eyebrow at her; that look making John groan inwardly as he knew what was to come. 

"You mean, would we show you how to properly gather evidence and properly deduce facts? Which in that case, yes, John and I will accompany you to Barts." Sherlock stated while walking out of the room, leaving stunned Kylie and exasperated John behind.

Kylie stared at where he had been a moment earlier before scoffing and quickly following behind him. 

“This is because I got to interrogate the suspect and you didn’t,” she laughed slightly, rubbing it in a bit more. 

“No,” he stated simply as they walked through Scotland Yard, “This is about bad police work. Cant have you making a mess of things, can we?”

Kylie laughed bitterly as she put on her gloves, “Excuse me. But ever since I have gotten here, all I have done is break this case wide open for you.”   
“Please,” Sherlock scoffed at her as they broke through the front door of the Yard, hearing John’s footsteps behind them. 

“Okay, well even if you had figured out all that I had figured out for you… which you didn’t… I still am the one with a PhD in Forensic Anthropology and specialize in looking at skeletal remains, which this case mainly deals with!” She crossed her arms and stared at him, “Tell me, do you even have a degree?”  
“Please, you just have to show up to get a PhD in America. American universities don’t even have standards.”

“Excuse me?!”

John groaned out loud as the argument continued as they looked for a cab. His head was already pounding and it wasn't even lunch yet.

This was going to be a long case.


	7. Chapter 7

"American Universities are useless."

“Oh, this is about me being one of 'them damn yankees' now isn't it? For your information, America is the leading researcher in almost all of the scientific fields."

"That's because they outsource their work. Everybody knows that."

John groaned to himself as he put his head in his hands. He was trapped in the back of the cab with the two brightest and most stubborn people he knew. He liked Kylie. She was smart, cunning, beautiful, sincere, and could kick Sherlock's ass. He had enjoyed Kylie throwing his friend for a loop, and his friends odd behavior towards her, but with their constant bickering that had begun at Scotland Yard had not wavered in the last ten minuets, he was beginning to enjoy it a lot less. Even the cabbie looked annoyed.

"I'm sorry, so if I had gotten a PhD from a school in another country, even though I graduated with top marks from the most highly regarded school for forensic anthropology and studied under the leading expert in the field, its all useless because its from America?"

“Yes, that is essentially what I'm saying."

"Do you not realize how illogical that argument is?"

"Its…."

"BLOODY HELL will the two of you SHUT UP!" John yelled not able to take the bickering any longer.

Kylie and Sherlock looked at him in shock. Neither of them had expected John to have the outburst.

"You," John said pointing at Sherlock, "need to actually listen to her and stop insulting her intelligence. You know for a fact that she is just a brilliant as you, so stop trying to take her down a notch and accept that there is someone out there who can challenge you.”

Kylie grinned and leaned back in the seat, satisfied that she had won the argument. 

“Or beat you,” she rubbed in, not being able to resist the chide.

“And you…” John said rounding on her. 

Kylie’s face dropped. She had not thought that John would tell her off at all. 

“…You need to stop purposely picking and purposely dragging out the fights…”

She opened her mouth to argue, but John held up a hand. 

“No,” he told her pointedly, “You enjoy bickering with him far too much when you know you should just let it go all together and messing with his head. As entertaining as it is to watch, I cannot take the long extended bickering!”

John paused and took a deep breath as the cab slowed to a stop in front of Bart's.

“Its not my fault he is wrong,” Kylie told him. 

“I’m not wrong, I’m never wrong,” Sherlock argued back. 

“Seriously! America has the leading university in nearly every subject…”

“GOD!” John yelled again as he threw the door open, “You two are seriously a bloody married couple!”

That comment shocked Kylie and Sherlock into silence as the doctor exited the cab and angrily stormed into the hospital. 

Silence overtook the cab as they both sat there, stunned. 

“So… you two seriously arent married?” the cabbie asked, “Because I would have bet my life you two had been married for at least 7 years.”

The two glared at the cab driver for a second before Sherlock dug a note out of his pocket and thrusted it angrily at the cabbie before he stepped out of the cab. 

“Not even close,” Kylie told him before she followed Sherlock out of the cab and into the hospital. 

&*@(@*)

Molly was tidying up the morgue when she heard the morgue door swing open to accommodate a very angry looking Watson storming into the morgue.

Molly frowned. The doctor was usually calm and warm-natured; not to mention, never came into the morgue alone.

”Can I help you Dr. Watson?" Molly smiled at him timidly.

John's head snapped towards her and immediately soften towards the girl, "Oh, right sorry. Hello Molly.”

“Stressful day, is it?” she asked.

John opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as the door opened once more.

Sherlock waltz into the morgue, with Kylie close behind.

"Molly," Sherlock said not even looking at her, as he walked immediately over to some equipment and began tinkering with it,”We need to look at the burned woman's body."

Molly instantly blushed in Sherlock's presences, but instantly stiffened upon laying her eyes upon the auburn haired woman.

"Oh right, who is she?" Molly asked timidly. 

Kylie didn't miss the way the meek woman blushed and had looked at the detective, and then her. She smiled politely at the woman. She was going to be working with her a lot.

"Hi," Kylie stated walking over to her extending her hand. “I’m Dr. Kylie Gibbs. I'm the new forensic anthropologist Scotland Yard Hired."

Molly accepted her hand timidly and gave the new woman an uneasy smile. "Hello." Molly stood there looking Kylie over for a minute trying to figure out if she was with the man she had been trying to get to notice her for years now. 

Kylie was taller than her, prettier than her, but she wore clothing that was more fashionable. Sherlock didn't care about looks. He cares about brains, and I doubt this woman has any. She was too pretty and he doesn't like it when people that comply with fashion…

…Right? …Right?

"The body Molly?" Sherlock said in his usual bored fashion.

"Oh right, of course." Molly said slightly blushing and hurrying off to get the body. Kylie shot John a curious look about what had just occurred. John just shook his head with a look of dismay.

Molly wheeled the gurney to the center of the room underneath the light. Kylie and Sherlock donned gloves as she politely thanked the morgue attendant. Sherlock unzipped the body bag and eagerly began examining the body. 

Sherlock pulled out his magnifying glass and began scrutinizing every inch of the woman's body. Kylie on the other hand, began closely looking at the woman's rib cage.

"She was stabbed," Kylie said looking closer.

Sherlock stopped and moved over to where Kylie was standing. Standing impossibly close as he examined the ribcage also. John saw Molly's face drop as she shifted awkwardly and looked away. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. 

God, Sherlock really needed to talk with her.

"The nick in the third rib," Sherlock said as his fingers gently traced over the bone. "Of course how did I miss that?"

"You mean, how did I miss that before?" Kylie said turning her head slightly to look at him as they stood incredibly close together. 

He really was quite handsome…

"Its understandable for amateurs to miss things." Sherlock said as he shrugged, his eyes still examining the nick in the rib cage.

John groaned and dropped his head, "Here we bloody go again."

"You have GOT to be kidding me?" Kylie said standing up and stepping back so that she could yell at him properly. "I'm the one who pointed it out!"

“Well, if you were an expert, you would have known that she was covered in gasoline before she was burned,” Sherlock said standing and facing her properly. 

She paused and looked at him, crossing her arms, “And why do you say that?”

"The cracks in the bone suggest an extremely high heat source. Fire, as we well know, but this woman was burned with something hotter due to the cracking in her bones we know that it was hotter than just fire. So there's the use of the accelerant, and by looking at bone itself, we know that it was gasoline. Gasoline burns hotter than any other accelerant."

Kylie stared at him for a moment before a smile slowly broke out over her face.

"It was kerosene, not gasoline,” she told him quietly, “Kerosene burns slower and by the deep cracking in the bone we can tell that yes, the fire was indeed hot, but the depth if the crack tells us how long it burned, not how hot. The deeper the cracking, the longer the burn. You are correct in that gasoline burns the hottest, but it is also the quickest to dissipate. By the looks of our victim here, she burned for over two hours which the only accelerant that would last that long would be kerosene."

Sherlock just stared at her for a moment before a smirk began to cover his face as well. The pair just looked at each other for a moment, locked in a gaze, before Kylie cleared her throat and broke the gaze with a slight blush. 

Seriously, what was wrong with her?

She refocused herself on the body at hand. she examined the wound for a minuet before she suddenly turned to John.

"You were in the Military right?" she asked him.

"Uh…Yes." John asked not seeing how this was relative to the case at all.

"The knife you were given, you still carry it?" Kylie asked.

“Oh, uh.. yeah,” John said fishing through his pockets and pulling out a pocketknife. Kylie grabbed it and pulled another knife out of her own pocket, opening them both and comparing the blades to each other and then to the wound.

“You carry a knife..?” John started to ask before Kylie cut him off.

"Our woman was stabbed with this same knife. All the markers fit. This is same knife that is dispersed to all branches of the British military, correct?”

“Only British army,” John told her, “Royal Navy and Air Force have different armories.”

"Our killer was a military man, more specifically an army man,” Sherlock said his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Precisely,” Kylie said as she looked at him with a smile. 

John, at this point was still stuck on the fact that Kylie carried around a large military style knife. "I'm sorry, why do you have knife?"

“A rule my father taught me,” she told him as she repocketed the knife and handed John back his, “Never go anywhere without a knife." Kylie stated.

“Actually somewhat of a wise rule to have,” Sherlock stated.

Kylie smiled at him once more, “Of course it is. A girl never knows when she’ll need a knife.”

Once more, the two held eye contact for longer than expected. 

“Right,” Molly muttered, “I’m just going to … er… go..”

Molly retreated out of the room with her head down and face red, causing all three of the other living occupants to look at her. 

“Is it just me or is she totally head over heels for you?” Kylie inquired Sherlock with a grin. 

“She is,” John said as he crossed his arms and leaned up against a table, “I told you, you need to talk to her Sherlock.”

He just sighed loudly and rolled his eyes as he stripped off his gloves.

“Can we just go catch a killer?”

Kylie let out a laugh and walked out of the lab. Sherlock made to follow immediately before John stopped him, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Kylie was well out of ears-reach.

“Look, you really need to talk to Molly if you arent interested. Especially if you and Kylie… you know…”

Sherlock looked at him in confusion, “Kylie and I, what?”

John stared at him in shock. 

Jesus, this man was ignorant to his own attraction to the woman. 

“You know, date?”

Sherlock looked at him for a moment in pure puzzlement. 

“Why on earth would I ever do that?” he asked. 

John shut his eyes in frustration. 

“Because thats what people do Sherlock.”

“Not me…”

“Hey, boys,” Kylie said as she poked her head back into the morgue, “We going or what?”

Sherlock gave John one last confused look before walking out of the morgue, leaving John behind. 

The doctor sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling in frustration and admonishment. 

This was going to be nearly impossible, wasn't it?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full thing posted on Fanfiction.net
> 
> Sorry for the formatting... I really dont get this site all too well and unfortunately haven't had the time to figure it all out or poke around too much. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts or feelings!

The trio returned to Scotland Yard once more, only to find Lestrade at his desk picking up his phone.

"I thought you were picking up the mistress?" Kylie asked, walking into Lestrade's office along with Sherlock and John.

"Speak of the devil," Lestrade said hanging the phone back up. "I was just about to call you lot. We have Miss Pemburton in interrogation now."

Without a word, Sherlock just walked out of the room closely followed by Kylie, leaving John and Lestrade looking confused.

The DI sighed and looked at the other man. 

"Great, I have two of them now," he commented getting up from his chair and starting to follow them, John right beside him.

“Yeah, well, you didn't have to endure their bickering all morning,” he told him as they walked. 

“They bicker?” Lestrade said slightly surprised, “I figured they were too much alike for that.”

“Like a married couple, “John stated bitterly before sarcastically asking, “You think she’s a lot like Sherlock and she wouldn't argue stuff to the grave?”

Lestrade laughed, “Touche.”

The older man stopped John right before they walked into interrogation, ensuring that they wouldn't be over heard. 

“Look, I don't know Sherlock as well as you do, nor do I know anything about what he’s into, but do you think…”

“That he fancies Kylie?” John asked with a raised eyebrow, “I think he does, but he is completely ignorant to his own attraction to her.”

Lestrade sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “How can he be though?”

John shrugged, “He’s Sherlock. I mean in all the time you have known him, have you seen him been attracted to a woman?”

“There was Irene, wasn't there?”

“Yeah, but look how that one panned out,” John told him, “Plus I think that Irene was different anyway.”

“How so?”

“The Woman pretty much threw herself at him and happened to be working for Moriarty.” 

“She was a dominatrix. That’s what she does for a living.”

“Yeah, but I think that this one is different. She’s solving cases with him, not becoming a case for him.”

Lestrade smiled at him, “You think she might be the one to actually get him to date?” 

John looked at him pointedly, “Its Sherlock. But all that I know, as far as Sherlock goes, this is the closest thing I have ever seen him to having a crush on a girl.”

&^#(@*(@

Kylie and Sherlock reached the observation room and took a good look at their latest suspect. Miss Pemburton was in her mid to late twenties. Her hair was bleached blond and done up. She also had a lot of makeup on her face, and was extremely…. surgically enhanced.

They studied her in silence as they heard Lestrade and John talking quietly outside the door. 

“They’re talking about us,” Sherlock commented dryly as he stared at the woman in the room. 

“Hm,” Kylie muttered as she turned and looked at the door, “You know why?”

“Not a clue.”

She turned and smiled at him, “Interesting. The man who knows the answer to everything is stumped.”

He turned to glare at her, to see her smiling at him. It obviously being a joke. 

A smirk began to cover his face as he turned back to look at the woman in the room. 

“I find that guessing about gossip never helps me.”

“Oh, so you do guess?” she smiled at him. 

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She had proven to be quite helpful.

“When it suits me. Don’t tell anyone.”

She laughed lightly, causing Sherlock to chuckle as well. 

Lestrade and John walked into the room.

“Well, you want to talk to her then?” he asked. 

“Yep,” Kylie said as she grabbed the file off the table in front of her, before glancing at Sherlock, “He gets to come with me though.”

Lestrade and John looked at her in slight shock as Sherlock smirked, not even moving his gaze from the suspect. 

“You’re kidding. You two wouldn't stop bickering like five minutes ago!” John said in slight disbelief. 

Kylie shrugged and smiled, “Female secretary who has a thing for her dark-haired boss? It can’t hurt to bring another handsome man into the room.”

“Alright,” Lestrade said as he watched the two of them leave, the door shutting behind them. 

Silence. 

“I dont know whether to be hurt she didn't ask us to go in there with her, or be happy they are taking a break from bickering,” John commented. 

Lestrade just looked at him before shaking his head and watching them enter the room, “I give them till Christmas before they are humping each other’s brains out.”

John looked at him, “I’ll take that bet.”

The door on the other side of the mirror opened, causing Lestrade and John to drop the conversation at hand. 

“Hello Miss Pemburton,” Kylie said while pulling out a chair and sitting down, “My name is Dr. Kyleigha Gibbs, this is Sherlock Holmes…”

“Wait, from the blog?!” the woman gaped in a very peppy-cheerleader like tone. 

Kylie straightened and turned to him questioningly, while smirking. 

“You have a blog? That people read?” she asked. 

“Yes, I have a blog,” he told her. 

“You mean John Watson’s blog,” Miss Pemburton gushed, “Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I am actually talking to Sherlock Holmes. I have to text the club about this…” she said as she pulled her cell phone out. 

Sherlock glared at the table. He had to find a way to delete that blog forever. 

“You have a fan club?” Kylie gaped, trying her best not to laugh, “A fan club…”

“I do not…”

“Yes! Its amazing. Like, seriously…”

Kylie fought laughter as Sherlock glared at the table. 

“So, this group?” Kylie asked with interest, “Where and when do they meet?”

The woman smiled at her as she opened her mouth to answer.

“Who else are you seeing other than Mr. Mayberry?” Sherlock said cutting her off before she could answer. 

The woman looked at him, completely taken aback, “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, come on, let her answer,” Kylie chided. 

“Whom, with whom else are you sleeping with other than Mr. Mayberry?” Sherlock asked again through gritted teeth. 

Miss Pemburton stared at him for a moment before fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist, “How did you know about us?”

“He told us,” Sherlock said flatly. 

She looked at him with shock. 

“No one knew. He promised not to tell…”

“Men tend to lie when sex is involved.”

“Speaking from experience?” Kylie asked out of the corner of her mouth. 

“Of course not. I’m married to my work. Ive heard…or so I’ve seen from John, and the men in the movies on John’s laptop…”

“John has men on his laptop?” Kylie asked, “Interesting. Wouldn't have pegged that as his type.”

There was a thump on the glass as they heard someone yell something behind the one-way mirror, causing Kylie to struggle to keep a straight and professional face. 

“He was sleeping with other people?” Pemburton asked, obviously crushed. 

“Other than his wife? No,” Sherlock stated flatly, “But that wasn't the question. The question was, were you, Miss Pemburton, sleeping with anyone else?”

She stared at him for a moment. 

“I… I’m not sleeping with anyone else…”

Sherlock leaned back in his chair and snorted in disbelief. 

Kylie shot him a look before she leaned forward, softening towards the young woman.

"Look Miss Pemburton, we aren't here to judge. We just want all the facts. Someone murdered Mrs. Mayberry and we think it may be someone linked to you." Kylie said in a supporting fashion.

"I'm not seeing anyone else!" she said exasperatedly.

"The bracelet you are wearing says otherwise,” Sherlock stated.

"What?"

"The bracelet you keep toying with. There is an engraving on the inside. 'All my love- Timmy’. Its not all that elegant. Everything else you are wearing is. All name brand and groomed to look the best as it possibly can. The bracelet however is cleaned and cared for, but not expensive. So its a thoughtful gift, or reminder. Suggests that it is from a lover, not a father, or brother. One, that is much less wealthy than our Mr. Mayberry, such as someone in the military, perhaps?” Sherlock asked in a bored tone.

“Wow, you really are as brilliant as the blog states,” Miss Pemburton said as she just looked at Sherlock in amazement.

Sherlock smiled, pleased with himself. 

“Please, don't stroke his ego,” Kylie told her, “It already needs a rental space the size of Texas to store it when he’s not using it.”

Miss Pemburton just stared at her. 

“Name,” Sherlock said flatly.

“Sorry?”

“Name. What’s his name?” Sherlock pried more in frustration.

She looked down once more, toying with the bracelet again. 

“Please, Miss Pemburton. Someone lost their life. I know you didn't want that for anyone.”

The secretary shut her eyes.

"Timmy." she said slowly. "Timothy Worthington."

"Cynthia," Kylie said slowly, "Is he in the military?”

“He’s British S.A.S,” she answered quietly and smiled, “We fell in love a couple of years ago. Then he got deployed. Iraq mainly. I got lonely and we needed the money, so I began having an affair with Mr. Mayberry.”

She paused and wiped a tear off her face. 

“He came home last week and surprised me just as Mr. Mayberry had arrived at my place. He got in his face, and nearly punched him. Yelling that he would take away what he had taken away from him before he stormed out. I havent heard from him since. He wont return any of my calls, but I never thought that he would ever do anything like this.”

Sherlock got up and left the room, completely satisfied with that answer. 

Miss Pemburton looked up at him, completely crushed. 

Kylie reached out and covered her hand with hers. 

“I know you didn’t,” she told her with a kind smile before she got up and followed Sherlock out, to find him talking to John and Lestrade. 

“…if the boyfriend’s knife has human blood on it, arrest him. He’s most likely at a friend’s flat near Westchester. She lied. She saw him this morning by the dirt on her heels.”

Lestrade looked at Kylie as she walked in. 

“Well, good job you two!” he told them, “You know, you two make quite a pair.”

Both Kylie and Sherlock gave him a look as John stifled a laugh. 

“I mean as a team,” he smirked at them. 

Or as a couple…

“I’ll let you know when I find the boyfriend!” Lestrade said as he pulled out his phone and walked out of the room. 

Kylie turned and looked at the two men left in the room. 

“You guys hungry?”

Sherlock looked at her and smirked slightly. 

“Starved.”

Kylie smiled back at him as John narrowed his eyes and looked between the two of them. 

Was this SERIOUSLY happening right in front of him?   
“Good,” she said simply as she turned to John, “John, you hungry?”

“Yes, but I am not about to participate in what you two are talking about,” he told them. 

Both Kylie and Sherlock looked at him in confusion. 

“What? Chinese takeout?” Kylie asked. 

John looked between the two of them. 

“Wait, weren't you two just talking about…?” 

He trailed off expectantly, waiting for them (… well, Kylie) to fill in the blanks. Not seeing any begin to click, he realized that they really had been talking about dinner; no flirting involved, despite what it had seemed. 

“Never mind,” John muttered as he walked out of the room. 

Kylie and Sherlock watched him leave, puzzled. 

“What was that about?” she asked him. 

“No idea,” Sherlock stated with a shrug. 

“Hm.” 

The pair began to walk out after John. 

“You know, I know this great little Chinese Restaurant a few blocks away from Baker Street who delivers for free,” he told her. 

“Wow, free delivery. I havent seen that in ages.”

“Well,” he smiled, “Its not for everyone.”

“Why?” she inquired as she grinned, “You get the owner off a murder charge or something?”

“No,” he smirked cheekily, “Helped him put in a shelf.”

Kylie laughed as they joined John outside on the sidewalk of the Yard, as a legacy of a trio of friendship and adventures had began.


	9. Chapter 9

“You’re kidding?!” Kylie laughed as she sat in one of the armchairs in the upstairs flat of Baker Street, taking her second scotch that John handed her as he walked back to his seat, “You guys seriously got chased around a roof with a midget with a blow dart?”

“He was an assassin employed by an Indian billionaire,” Sherlock said as he took a drink of his scotch, “He obviously had to be caught.”

“So you guys played duck, duck, goose and ring around the rosy for an hour with a midget, while dodging poisonous blow darts?” Kylie laughed. 

“Hey, to our credit,” John said pointedly, “That little bastard was quick.”

Kylie laughed, “Oh, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't have paid to see it.”

“It was a pretty ridiculous case,” Sherlock agreed. 

They had gotten take out and retreated back up to John and Sherlock’s flat, where they had taken to talking about old cases and drinking long into the night. 

“MMH!” John exclaimed mid-sip of his scotch, “Did you tell her about the time with the french liquor?”

Sherlock started laughing loudly, making John laugh as well. 

Kylie smiled at the pair of friends. 

They really had shared some crazy adventures…

“No, that one…” Sherlock said as he finished his drink, “That one, is for another day.”   
“Oh come on now,” Kylie said as she leaned forward, smiling as she swirled her drink in her glass, “You cant get a girl interested, than back off!”

John laughed as he yawned, “You obviously don’t know Sherlock.”

Sherlock gave John a strange look as Kylie laughed. 

“Oh, okay, well if you aren’t going to tell me, I’ll just have to look up this fan club and ask them for myself..” she said as she pulled out her phone.

“What? No…” Sherlock said as his face dropped, “No, don’t.”

“Why? I keep hearing so much about your blog.”

“You mean my blog,” John corrected her, “No one, and I mean no one reads Sherlock’s blog.”

“People read my blog!” Sherlock argued. 

“No one cares about a hundred and fifty different types of tobacco ash!”

“One hundred and fifty three,” Sherlock corrected. 

Kylie just looked at them with amusement as John rolled his eyes before she looked back down at the phone. 

“Oh, that hat is adorable Sherlock,” Kylie laughed as she looked at the blog. 

“Hat?” he asked as his head snapped towards her. 

“Tell me,” she asked, laughing, “Do you always have to wear that hat when solving crimes?”

“Good God,” Sherlock said angrily as he glared at John who was getting up and stretching, “You seriously put up that picture of me in that hat?”

“Yep, I’m not taking it down, and now I’m going to bed so I don’t have to hear about it,” John said with a smile, “Night Kylie!”

“Night John!” Kylie said with a grin. 

John disappeared up the stairs, leaving Sherlock and Kylie alone. 

“Well, now that I have reading material, I should let you go to bed,” Kylie said as she finished her drink. 

“I don’t sleep very often,” Sherlock told her. 

“Join the club,” Kylie stated, “I have to say, I haven’t slept very well since I left the states. Takes me a while to adapt to new places I guess.”

That had to be the biggest lie you have said in a while. Flashbacks don’t count as a reason that many people share with you…

“Though I doubt thats your reason,” Kylie continued, trying to get the topic onto something else so that she wouldn’t have to sit there and think about herself. 

“No, my mind is like a rocket, tearing itself to bits; never stopping, never ceasing,” he said before he even realized the words had come out of his mouth. 

Why was he telling this woman this?

He looked up at her. She had set her phone down and was looking at him with a softness on her face that he couldn't understand. 

“I get that,” she told him quietly, “I bet that is hard. You find that you don't need sleep to ‘reset’?”

He looked at her quizzically. Most people scoffed at his rocket and computer analogy for his own brain, but she… she got it. 

“Of course I need sleep. Human’s need REM sleep to survive.”

“Yes, but you said it yourself,” she told him as she ran a hand through her hair, “Your mind never stops. How can you achieve REM sleep when your mind is constantly going?”

He looked at her for a moment before looking back down at his empty glass.

“I find ways,” he told her. 

She raised an eyebrow at him, “So you pretty much work yourself into exhaustion in order to sleep?”

He didn't respond, he just looked at her. 

She smiled at him before she finished her drink and got up, pocketing her phone and walking over to where he was sitting on the couch. 

“That’s not healthy you know. You really should take better care of yourself. Your brain probably doesn't work quite as well when you are exhausted and constantly ill.”

He looked up at her and smiled, “That’s why I have a doctor as a flatmate.”

Kylie laughed, “Yes, but as a pre-emptive strike for you not to get shot and be able to think when you needed to; get some sleep,” she told him as she bent down and kissed his cheek. 

“I’d hate to lose a friend right as I make one,” she said with a smile as she waved at him and walked towards the door. 

“Goodnight Sherlock.”

“Night.” he told her as she gave him one last smile and walked out the door and down the stairs to her own flat. 

Sherlock listened to her open, shut, and lock her door below him. 

His eyes dropped down to the empty glass in his hand. 

……Friend?

^*(()*#)((@#(

Kylie stepped out the door and onto Baker Street the following morning starting her daily run.

As she picked up her pace to match the fast beat to the music blaring from her iPod, her thoughts wandered to the night before.

She had solved her first case in London, with the help of the two men who lived above her and successfully started her life here. She had moved in, made two new friends, and started a new job. She was about as far away from her past as she could get, and after hanging out with John and Sherlock last night for dinner and long into the night, she was now realizing that she really could put the past behind her. 

Its still fresh Kylie. You cant let one night happen and think you are over it…

It was true, she knew she needed time to heal. But having friends and distractions were helping her bare through it, rather than sitting in a deserted hotel room with only her thoughts and memories to haunt her. 

She shook her head and kept running, pushing through the drizzle that was beginning to fall from the sky as her mind then went to her two new friends. 

She had to admit, she was rather fond of John. He was kind, caring, and rather fun to be around. His past as a solider only made her feel more comfortable around the army doctor, as she loved hearing stories of the war and medicine she was so used to from her father and Uncle Duck. 

His flat mate on the other hand… well, he was a different story….

She wasn't quite sure what to think of him anymore. At first, she had found him mysterious and intriguing as only a man waltzing into a flat covered in blood could do. He was brilliant; Kylie had seen that from the start, but the moment that he had mistakenly analyzed her, she had begun to have fun messing with his ego and mind. Now, that had most likely been the most fun she had had in ages, but he had begun to lash back, creating a strange sort of debate and competition between the two of them. She knew well enough to know that if she was going to dish it out, she had to be able to take it; but that hadn't stopped the bickering. As irritated and as much as he was able to get under her skin, she had found it strangely entertaining debating and arguing with him. 

She still couldnt believe that that that cabbie had seriously thought them a married couple. Them….as if! If Kylie was sure of one thing, it was that Sherlock Holmes was an annoying, stubborn, egotistical, brilliant, handsome….

…Did I really just say handsome?

Kylie…. Get a freaking grip.

She could NOT start thinking of her neighbor as handsome… not after what she had been through. 

Sure, they had ended up working extremely well together and closed the case in record time. And, sure, they along with John, had had a wonderful dinner and evening, talking and getting to know one another as well as reflecting on old cases. And maybe, she had really enjoyed the intellectual and highly spirited debate before John had started to hand them drinks to get them to stop. And yeah, she had stayed over until late, only to go and read every inch of John’s blog, becoming only more fascinated with the man upstairs. 

But, if there was one thing she knew, it was that there was no way she could ever be interested in him like that… EVER. 

He was her new friend… and that was what she needed right now anyway; friends. She had cut all ties with nearly all of her friends when she had left America. The last thing she needed was a way for her to be found. 

Kylie shook the thoughts from her head as she finished her run and rounded back onto Baker Street, trying to catch her breath as she re-entered her flat. 

As she walked into 221C and dropped her keys on to the table next to the door, her ears picked up a sound, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. 

There were footsteps coming from inside the flat. 

…Someone else was here…

She slowly began to reach for the drawer of the table that held her Glock, when she heard a male voice she had not heard before. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you Miss Gibbs.” 

A man emerged from around the kitchen dressed in a fine suit and was well groomed. The man seemed to be in his late 40's to early 50's and spoke with a smooth sounding voice. The kind of voice you have when you're involved in politics.

“It's nice to finally meet you in person,” the man said smiling casually leaning on the umbrella he carried in his right hand.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get into my flat?" Kylie asked, her hand still on the drawer containing her weapon.

He frowned at her for a moment as he looked around, ”Its quite obvious that I broke in don't you think?" 

Kylie scoffed at the man.

Arrogant politician. 

Great, just what I need in my life after I have Mr. Ego living above me.

“Answered one question,” she told him, “What’s your answer to the other?”

The man smiled at her, “Who I am? Well, I would like to say I’m somewhat of a friend of one of the men upstairs.”

"A friend?" Kylie said raising her eyebrows quizzically at the man before her. "I somehow doubt that."

"Well, I'm sure if you asked him he call me his enemy.”

“Some how I doubt that John has enemies…”

“He fought in a war,” the man answered smoothly. 

“He was a doctor,” she bit back, “But Sherlock on the other hand…” she trailed off and took the older man in. “Sherlock has loads of enemies from what I have heard and saw, but I dont even think you are an enemy. I’d bet you are family. Older Brother?”   
The man smiled at her. "Clever girl," he told her as he smiled. "How did you deduce that?"

"The gold fleck in your eye. Sure, Sherlock has different eye color, but that same colored fleck in the same spot? You two are definitely directly related."

The man continued to smile at her before extending his hand in admiration. "Mycroft Holmes."

Kylie accepted the man's hand, "Pleasure to meet you," she stated. "But why the hell are you in my flat?"

"You have only recently arrived in London, and yet you have still spent a majority of the time in my little brother's presence."

Kylie was puzzled, "yeah… and that matters to you why?" before something clicked, “Wait, how do you know I just moved here and have been spending time with Sherlock?"

"Please Miss Gibbs," Mycroft said smiling once more, "I have connections." Then while looking around the flat he added, "It doesn't take a genius to deduce those facts."

Kylie shut her eyes in annoyance.

Being an over-confident jackass must run in the family. 

"You know what, never mind. Just why are you here?"

"I just wanted to offer you a deal."

"A deal?”

Who the hell was this guy?

"Yes," he said "You keep an eye on my brother and let me know what he is up to, and I will reward you with any financial means you see fit."

"Let me get this straight." Kylie said taking a moment to make sure she had heard Mycroft correctly. "You want me to spy on Sherlock for you? Your own brother."

"Essentially," Mycroft replied in the same matter-of-fact tone.

Okay…this was a messed up family.

"Uh…no…I think I'll pass on the spy bribe,” Kylie said as she then moved towards her room. "Call MI6 though, who knows James Bond maybe available.”

"You joke Miss Gibbs, but I will assure you it is a firm offer."

"Well I'm firmly declining Mr. Holmes,” and with that, Kylie brushed past the man and into her bedroom to shower, but before she reached it she turned back towards the man.

"I believe you can show yourself out just as you showed yourself in. Good day Mr. Holmes."

She gave him one last smile before she turned and walked into her room, shutting and locking the bedroom door behind her.

Mycroft smiled to himself. John was right, they would make quite a pair.


	10. Chapter 10

Kylie sat on her living room couch, cuddled up with a large glass of wine and her laptop. She was bundled up, wearing one of her Dad’s many sweatshirts that read NAVY on the front of it. It was ratty, stained, and had been worn many, many times; but it smelled like her father. Just the smell of him made her feel safe. He had protected her countless times, and Lord knows, she needed to feel safe right now. 

She missed him, but she needed to keep him in the dark about somethings. It hurt her to lie to him, but it was what was best for him. Only God knew what kind of wrath would occur if he found out what had really happened. That’s why she had moved to London… well, one of the reasons. 

Kylie sighed to herself and took a sip of her wine, trying to stop her mind from focusing on the wounded part of herself. She really needed to figure out a way to distract herself without hanging around with the men upstairs constantly. 

New Life. New Start.

Move on….

She took another large drink of her wine. She just had to enjoy her saturday night alone. She had wine and a laptop with a Netflix subscription. This should really be a great saturday night. 

Her laptop dinged, pulling her out of her thoughts once more as she looked at her computer. 

1 new email. 

She clicked the icon, opening up the message. 

Dr. Kyleigha Gibbs, 

On behalf of Cambridge University, we would like to invite you to speak at the James Orville Annual Fundraising Ball on Tuesday, August the twenty-first. 

As you may already know, the University is beginning a graduate program in the science of Anthropological studies, and your presence would be of the highest regards. We hope that you will accept our offer and also consider a position on the University staff. 

Sincerely, 

Jonathan L. Ropkins PhD.

Kylie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. As soon as the word had gotten out that she had left the FBI and Georgetown three weeks ago, she had been receiving job offers from every major university, offering her a job. She was young, and a relatively fresh face in the field, but she was one of the few people who had experience in police work and did not specialize in historical discoveries. 

As grateful as she was for the job offers, she found teaching to be rewarding, yet boring. She thrived off cases and went into the field wanting to solve cases. She had been helping her father do it since she was ten years old. Despite the fact that he had not wanted her to work cases, he had hide crime scene photos from her, in fear that the sight of them would traumatize her, but she always found them… every time…

Kylie smiled and laughed to herself at the memory of the first tie her father had let Ducky babysit her at NCIS. 

"Uncle Duck! Uncle Duck!" the little girl cried excitedly running into the NCIS morgue a book of fairy tales in tow.

"Kyleigha my dear!" the older gentleman said walking over to the girl. "What have you brought me to read to you today?"

"Book of Fairy tales!" the little girl said excitedly. "Will you read me one Uncle Duck?"

"Of course dear." The man said. "Let me just make a cup of tea first."

The little girl went over to the desk chair and waited patiently for the older man to make his tea in the other room when she noticed the gurney on the other side of the room that contained a large, long lump covered by a white sheet. The girl was intrigued. Seeing Ducky had walked into the office attached to the morgue, she walked over to the lump.

"So Kyleigha, which story are we going to read….Oh dear.." Ducky walked back into the room, cup of tea in hand and what he saw amazed him and made his heart stop all at once. The 7 year old had found a stool and was now examining the body of the soldier on the table. Granted the man on the slab had very little tissue left on his body and was mainly just skeletal remains, but it was still something a 7 year old should not be looking at.

Jethro was going to kill him

"Uncle Duck?" The little girl said turning towards him, "what happened to this man's skin?"

"Kyleigha dear, don't look at that." The older man said walking over to where the girl stood.

"Why not?" the little girl said puzzled, "This is what is inside of all of us isn't it?"

"Well yes, these are what your bones look like."

"Oh." The girl then took a minuet to survey what lay before her. She then turned to him and asked with curiosity, "can you teach me?"

Ducky smiled to himself. The body did not disturb the girl at all, she just wanted to learn.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked out of the elevator to find his friend and his 7-year-old daughter looking at the victim of his latest case.

"Kylie." He said sharply giving the girl and hid friend his infamous 'Gibbs' stare.

His daughter turned and saw him. As soon as she laid eyes on him, her entire face lit up. She ran over to him to give him a hug,

"Daddy! Uncle Duck is teaching me what's inside of my body! Come look!" With that, the excited girl dragged her Dad over to the gurney where she proceeded to show him all the bones and shockingly named them correctly.

Upon seeing his daughter light up, Leroy Jethro Gibbs softened. How could he not?

A knock on the door of 221C brought Kylie out of her thoughts. 

Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn't expecting anyone. 

Her hand found the Glock that was sitting on the coffee table as she got up. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The knocking on the door increased once more before going silent. 

She slowly stood up, gun in her hand, as she crept towards the door. 

He couldn't have found her…. she had made sure to cover her tracks…

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Kylie put her hand on the door and took a breath as she removed the safety on the gun. 

She took a breath and unlocked the door, preparing herself for the worst before she quickly turned the knob and flub open the door, pointing the gun at the knocker. 

A dark haired, scarf-clad Sherlock stood there looking at her quizzically as he raised an eyebrow at the fact that she was pointing a gun at him. 

“Happy to see me?” he asked flatly as he slowly reached up and put two fingers on the top of her weapon, gently telling her to lower it out of his face. 

She obliged as it finally hit her that it was Sherlock standing in front of her. 

“Sherlock!” she said in surprise as she forced her body to relax and lowered her weapon, “Hey! sorry for the… you know…”

“You surprise all your house guests like that?” he asked, cocking an eye brow at her. 

She opened up her mouth to respond before he held up a pack of files bound together.

“We have a case,” he interrupted as he pressed past her and into the flat. 

“Yeah….” Kylie said shutting her eyes in annoyance, “Sure, come on in. Make yourself at home…” 

She glanced back before poking her head out the door and making sure that no one else had followed him, before shutting, and locking the door. 

Sherlock did not miss the motion, but chose not to say anything as he sat on the couch and noted an email pulled up on her laptop. 

Her body relaxed completely as she locked the door and set the gun down on the table before walking over to him. 

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him as he had made himself right at home on her couch. 

“Where’s John?” she asked. 

“Date,” he responded flatly. 

“So where’s Lestrade? And where’s the crime scene?” she asked him. 

"Lestrade wasn't even on the force when these murders occurred and each of the crime scenes have been released already." Sherlock replied in a monotonous voice.

"It's a cold case?" Kylie asked slowly.

"Yes"

"You want me to help you solve a cold case? With no body and no crime scene to go off of?"

"Yes"

“Right… Does Lestrade know about this?"

"It wasn't his case.”

She sat down and picked up the files, flipping through them before looking at him once more. 

“Sherlock, did you steal these files?"

"They're public property,” he replied matter-of-factly. "I borrowed it, just like a library book. Those are public property."

Kylie just stared at him in exasperation. "You do realize that that is a crime."

Sherlock just shrugged at her, “Like Lestrade will arrest me for it.”

She looked at him and shook her head before looking back at the file, seeing nothing significant about the case.

"Why on earth did you steal this by the way? Is there something meaningful behind these to you?"

"I'd thought it would be fun."

"Fun?" Kylie asked, not knowing how to respond to the man anymore.

"Yes fun," he said quickly grabbing the next file and holding it out to her to accept. "I think you'll find it quite interesting."

Kylie gave him a look "You were bored weren't you?" and with that she took the file. After scanning it she looked back up at the man, puzzled.

“Neither of these bodies were recovered! Sherlock there's no case. This woman and the boy could have just run away!

She picked up the last file, glancing at it before she turned to him in exasperation, ”None of the bodies were recovered."

"Precisely." Sherlock said with a smile. 

“Sherlock, there's no proof of a crime."

"Oh but there is,” he said as he leaned back into the couch, "The victims are all linked."

"Linked?" Kylie said rescanning the files, "How? The first supposed victim was a 60-year-old woman form Sussex; the second a teenager from London, and the third is an American businessman. Where on earth are you finding a link?"

"That's where you are going to help me." Sherlock said a smile beginning to form on his face.

"How?" Kylie asked confused as ever, "I'm a forensic anthropologist. There's no body, no crime scene, no witnesses, no crime? What's the link?"

He leaned towards her on the couch, looking her dead in the eye as a grin spread out on his face. 

“You are.”


	11. Chapter 11

“You are.”

Silence fell over the flat as Kylie just stared at Sherlock, trying to digest the information. 

“What?” she asked in shock. 

This didn't make sense; not at all. How were three ‘murders’, with little to no proof that they were actually crimes or murders, that occurred in Britain, linked to her while she was in Washington DC? She had no idea… at all. 

“How…?” Kylie got out as she shut her eyes and tried to wrap her mind around how this man had lost it so badly in such a short amount of time, “How on earth do these three people correlate back to me?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation, “Dont you see? Its right in front of you! Look at the file, actually look at it.”

Kylie looked at him for a moment before looking back down at the file and flipping through it one more time, only gaining the knowledge that the teenager had a pet dog named Scooter, who also went missing along with him. Other than that… she didn't see anything she hadn't seen before. 

…just missing people…

“Yeah… still not following.”

“The dates Kylie, look at the dates.”

She frowned and looked back down at the file. 

“The woman went missing four years ago, the teenager three, and and American last year.”

Sherlock just looked at her, waiting for her to fill in the blanks. 

She looked back at him, waiting for an answer. 

“So… the link?”

“Seriously?” Sherlock asked, looking at her, “I thought you were clever?”

“Thanks, I’ll try not to be offended by that.”

“You were in Britain at the exact same time these people disappeared, giving guest lectures, and lectures at conferences. Each person went missing within three days after you spoke,” Sherlock finally laid out for her. 

Kylie stared at him for a moment before she looked down at the dates, trying to remember when she had been in Britain. 

“How did you know that?” she asked, “I dont even remember when I was lecturing over here.”

Sherlock shifted awkwardly on the couch as he stared at the fire for a second. 

“You spoke in the UK three times. Twice at Cambridge and once at Edinburgh,” he continued quickly, trying to cover up how he had made the connection. 

“Yes, but how did you…?”

“Do you remember anything strange that happened at the lecture? Anyone who asked anything that alarmed you? Perhaps someone who attended all three?”

“How…?”

“Did you, Kylie?” he asked more firmly, causing her to drop her question and think about his. 

Kylie thought back. They had all been extremely typical lectures as far as she could remember. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just her lectures and answering kids questions. 

“No,” she said quietly, “Nothing stood out. I just lectured and answered questions the audience had.”

“Any specific questions stand out to you?” he asked more gently, which he knew was atypical for him. 

She thought for a moment, staring at her half-filled glass of wine she had been enjoying. 

“Not really. Just the three usual types.”

“What are the usual types?” Sherlock asked.

“I usually get three types of people at my lectures. The studious ones who usually ask the osteology questions, the ones who try to prove I’m making it all up and its a magic trick, and the ones who always ask about certain things that leave evidence behind.”

She saw Sherlock stiffen and completely straighten his posture as he turned completely towards her. 

“Like how to murder someone and not get caught?” he asked with a sparkle in his eye. 

“Yeah, I guess. But I never answer them. I’m not going to give people a how to manual to commit murder,” she replied, running a hand through her hair out of stress. 

Sherlock was quiet for a moment as he leaned back into the couch as he brought his hands together and pressed them to his lips in an almost ‘thinking stance’. 

Kylie looked at him for a moment, before looking back at the files. 

Were these people’s disappearances really linked to her? Was this her fault?

Sherlock straightened so quickly, it made Kylie jump slightly in fright. 

“Recordings?” he inquired as his eyes connected with hers, “Are there recordings of your lectures?”

“Uh… yeah. Cambridge recorded the two I did when I was there as a part of their continuing education program…”

A smile covered the detective's face, “Perfect!” he said, clapping his hands together, “A killer inspired by lectures. Its strange, but its new!” he exclaimed as he stood up and re-buttoned his jacket. 

He was nearly to the front door when he didn't hear her behind him. He found himself frowning and back tracking to see why she wasn't leaping up to join him on the case. 

Sherlock frowned even more when he looked at her face. She was staring at the files, guilt and hurt eating at her visibly. 

“You… er… coming?” he asked awkwardly. He wasn't good at dealing with sad looking people and from hearing about it enough from John, he knew he had to tread carefully. 

“Do you really think that I may have inspired a killer?” she asked him softly, “That these three people may be dead, because of me?”

“You didn't kill them,” he told her.

“Yes, but I put the wheels in motion. Every single time I was here, a new person went missing. I taught someone how to murder correctly.”

Sherlock felt himself sitting back down on the couch; not really knowing why or how his body was moving, or how he had gained patience to talk to the anthropologist when he could be racing towards the last train out to Cambridge.

“You were giving a lecture; teaching the next generation of professionals, and maybe even inspiring some into the field. You were not the one who took those people, nor harmed them, nor instructed anyone to do so. You do not have control of the actions of others, no matter how much better off they would be if you did.”

She looked at him, her bright blue eyes shining as she fought tears. 

“This was not your fault,” he told her firmly, wondering who in the hell he had become.

Kylie gave him a small smile as a single tear dropped out of her shining eyes. 

God… she really was absolutely gorgeous…

Sherlock mentally slapped himself. He could not have these feelings. He was not… emotional…

“Come on. Grab your coat,” he said, jumping up quickly, trying to cover his own thoughts, “Let’s go get those tapes and catch us a killer.”

“Sherlock, its late! Its nearly 8:45. There probably aren’t any more trains out…”

“Last one is a nine,” he told her flatly, “We can find a way back.”

She stared at him in amazement of having the train schedule memorized. 

“We cant just show up, no one will be there!”

“I have a guy who owes me a favor,” he told her, “Now, will you change into some real clothes so we can catch this train?”

Kylie looked down at what she was wearing, “Right… yeah…” she said before getting up immediately and walking into her bedroom. 

**(@#(@*

Twenty minutes, and some slight bickering later, the pair of them were sitting on a comfortably uncrowded train to Cambridge. They had been sitting in silence as Sherlock was texting someone and Kylie was watching while lost in her own thoughts. 

This went on for a few moments until Kylie remembered something. 

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she looked at him, with a smile.

“I just realized something,” she told him, causing him to look at her and pocket the phone, “You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“How on earth did you know that I had been lecturing in the UK when all three of the disappearances happened. I mean I didn't even remember the dates….”

He shifted; blatantly uncomfortable with the question, which just caused Kylie to smile more. 

“How did you make the link in the first place?”

“I googled the dates,” he lied simply.

“Bull,” she said immediately, “I don’t have a bio page nor a resume posted online, so a search engine would have never cumulated those together with myself as the link. 

He stared at her, clearly expecting her to by the lie.

“How?” she asked.

“You know how,” he muttered as a blush began to creep up his neck. 

Kylie’s grin widened. Though she hadn't known him long, she could tell that Sherlock Holmes was not one to be embarrassed easily, despite the fact that he covered it well with a stony expression. 

“I want to hear you say it,” she smiled at him. 

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Why? Can’t you make a girls day?” she grinned, “Come on. Admit it.”

“Fine,” he snapped, “I was looking you up. You happy?”

“Oh yes,” she smiled as his blush began to spread into his cheeks, “You just happened to be ‘looking me up’ and made the connection to the three seemingly random case files that you stole from the Yard?”

“Yes, have you ever heard of a coincidence?” he said moodily. 

“Of course, but I don’t believe in them.”

He just looked at her; trapped.

“Why were you looking me up?” she grinned at him. 

“I needed to see if you were actually competent if we were going to be working together,” he told her simply.

"Well, haven't you already deduced that since we have worked together for a whole case already? I mean you already told me you thought I was clever.”

Sherlock clenched his jaw at his own stupidity.

Why did he open his mouth?

"I had to be sure it wasn't just beginners luck,” he wrote off. 

“Uh-huh,” Kylie said sarcastically as she smiled at him, enjoying his embarrassment. 

Sherlock just stared at her, wishing the woman would stop smiling at him like that. His face was burning and he hated it. 

“You finished?” he snapped.

“Oh, far from it,” she smiled back. 

“You looked me up too,” he argued back, “I’m sure you read John’s blog by now.”

“Only because I had to prepare for my first fan club meeting,” she told him.

His face fell. 

“Oh, GOD! Not you too? For God’s sake, why in the hell do people care?”

“You and John are both attractive men. John’s a war hero, and you are a genius,” Kylie explained simply, “If you guys had a band, you’d beat out those One Direction children in pantie peeling.”

Sherlock stared at her, completely bewildered by that sentence. 

Silence. 

“Panties peel?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts please!


	12. Chapter 12

Kylie stepped out of the cab that they had caught from the train station, to the university, and into the night air. She gazed at the beautiful brink building in front of her. 

It was now the dead of night. She had hoped to be asleep by now, though she doubted her thoughts would have let her, but a small part of her was disdainful that she was here. 

Being with another human being and not by yourself with a bottle of wine, netflix, and your thoughts is much better….despite the fact that you are the factor linking these disappearances…

Sherlock had dragged her out here, to a deserted looking campus, to find a recording of herself lecturing, convinced the clues needed to figure this out were in there. 

…This was semi-absurd… No wonder John looked exhausted all the time…

Sherlock’s argument that she was link was convincing, but the stubborn part of her brain was trying to convince herself that it wasn't her; that these people had just disappeared and this was all a crazy conspiracy theory. 

…It couldn't be her fault that these people were dead. She did not need or want that on her plate at the moment. 

She heard the door of the cab shut before it drove off, just as Sherlock walked up beside her, pulling her from her thoughts. 

"Let's go get those tapes shall we?" Sherlock said as he began to walk away and towards the building ahead, Kylie following close behind.

“Its not going to be open!” she argued, “Its nearly eleven!”

“I told you,” he said, not slowing his pace, “I know someone who owes me a favor.”

Sherlock then turned and opened the surprisingly open door to the building, holding it for Kylie to enter first.

Kylie looked at the door and frowned in puzzlement. What university left their doors open at 11 at night?

"How does he owe you a favor?" Kylie asked after stepping into the building.

"This man saved my life," said a voice from behind Kylie.

Kylie turned to see an older man pushing himself up from the bench in the hall he was sitting on. He was wearing a suit, a wrinkled on at that. It looked to Kylie as if the man had been wearing the suit all day and had not had a chance to change. The man walked over to Kylie and extended his hand.

"Howard Presswater.”

 

"Kylie Gibbs," she said accepting the man's hand.

"I was able to prove that Mr. Presswater here did not murder his wife, but was unconscious in the other room,” Sherlock said as he walked over to the man.

"I used to be an addict." he told Kylie, looking slightly ashamed. "I was high and passed out. If I hadn't met Sherlock here, I'd still be in jail and I'd still be an addict."

He gave Sherlock a small smile before hugging the younger man. "My wife was the one who got me hooked. She'd still be alive if we were both clean. Sherlock was the one who got me to clean up my act."

Kylie looked at Sherlock in bewilderment. Had he really been able to talk an addict into going to rehab? It seemed uncharacteristic. She would imagine he would solve the case and be on his way, not stay around and help to fix people’s lives…

"Well Howard," Sherlock said to the older man, bringing Kylie out of her thoughts once more, “Let's find these tapes now shall we?"

"Of course. This way." Mr. Presswater said as he beckoned them to follow. 

He then lead the pair down a series of corridors before stopping at a door labeled RECORDS.

"The tapes and records are all labeled by department and date." Mr. Presswater informed them as he unlocked and opened the door, pointing out the never-ending rows of VHS tapes and DVDs. "There's a computer and DVD and tape player in the corner. I'm afraid the files have not been digitized yet."

"Thanks Howard." Sherlock said as he walked into the room and removed his scarf.

"For you, anything,” the man told him sincerely before giving Kylie one last smile and left them with the massive amounts of VHS and DVDs.

Kylie looked around the room and all the tapes around her. Sherlock had already begun walking down the aisles in search of the lectures. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed to herself as she removed her scarf and made herself a bit more comfortable. 

She had been hoping to catch up on sleep, and now she was slowly realizing she wasn't going to get any. 

&^#*@&(#@

After what seemed like hours, Sherlock and Kylie were finally sitting at the TV, fast forwarding through lectures and conferences. It turned out that Cambridge was not good at labeling and keeping records, despite their high academic reputation. It had taken them a few hours of searching before they were finally able to find the first lecture.

Sherlock pressed play on the video at its normal speed and they watched Kylie on the stage talking to the audience about the deducing facts from a body. She grimaced, she hated watching herself on tape. It was then, that she actually remembered exactly what she had talked about in this lecture.

“We don’t have to watch this part,” she told him, “Its a boring, typical lecture on a case I worked at the FBI and identification techniques.”

“How is that boring?” Sherlock asked before he even realized it. 

He saw Kylie turn her head and look at him with amusement out of the corner of his eye. 

“I mean, to the killer,” he quickly covered. 

Kylie’s grin began to spread even more before he hurriedly pressed fast forward and cleared his throat.

“Questions at the end, right?” he asked her, desperately trying to get off the topic. 

She smiled and turned back to the screen as she watched herself lecture in fast forward before Sherlock finally pressed play, to hear a student asking a question. 

"Dr. Gibbs, how on earth is it possible for you to be able to deduce how the victims live? I mean I get how you can see how they were killed IF there were marks in the bone, but I still don't understand how you knew that this girl played volleyball and you knew that she died of heavy metal toxicity."

Kylie watched herself smile on the screen and straighten her notes before answering. 

"You can tell a lot from bone. It is why you are able to move and be a solid mass. The body diffuses more materials than you think. Almost everyone forgets that bone is a living organ. It needs nutrients and blood to survive. By this girl being poisoned, you can easily tell by the build up of it in the metaphyseal plate. You can see it easily on an x-ray like this too. And as for the volleyball, her patella were dented and had signs of repair like she had dropped on them a little too hard for a couple years. Also she had a lot of repair on her tibial tuberosity suggesting the patella tendon was chronically swollen-hence patella tendonitis. The girl also had a similar repair on her right Acromium process and also surgical markers. These specific similar markers suggest a rotator cuff repair and what is known as a SLAP repair to repair the bicep tendon, labrum and rotator cuff in the shoulder. These injuries are extremely common with volleyball players, hence my deduction."

The crowd was silent for a minuet. Before a kid in the front row raised his hand.

"Is there anything that you can’t see in bone? Like an untraceable way to kill someone."

Kylie paused on stage thinking of her answer. "The body is a living thing that transports everything through the blood. Sure, there are things design to beat some of the tests we do, but anyone can figure it out."

Another kid spoke up from another part of the room off the camera, "Then how come then cause of death is sometimes not found."

She saw her face harden slightly.

"I'll say this, with enough time, one can deduce the cause of any death."

Another voice chimed in. "How do you see electrocution in bone."

"That is a difficult one, you will see cell death in the osteocytes, you have to look at the entire body for other damage. If you find a body with cell death and no other damage, then your best bet on COD is electrocution."

She frowned at the question once more before glancing at the watch on her wrist before smiling at the crowd.

"That's unfortunately all the time I have for questions, thank you for your time and attending."

The tape then watched the group of people packing up their things for a few minuets and then ended.

Kylie ran a hand through her hair and looked at Sherlock. He was sitting with his hands together, his index fingers pressed to his lips.

"Well, this is pretty much how both of the other lectures went. I mean this one was the last one I gave; " Kylie said checking the date on the case that it was in… not that it was correct…

Sherlock paid no attention to her; he just stared at the blank screen of the television. 

Kylie sighed to herself. He was lost in his thoughts. He probably wouldn't respond to her for a bit anyhow.

She ran a hand through her hair once more as she glanced out the small window in the room. Light was starting to seep through the window next to them.

Great we've been here all night.

She laid her head down on the desk in front of her and closed her eyes. She would kill for a cup of coffee right now. Since she had left America, sleep had just brought up memories and was nearly impossible for her. She had been living off of small naps, running, and a lot of coffee. 

With another person in the room, and with that person being Sherlock, she felt safe enough to try to get some rest. 

If he was just going to ignore her, she might as well get some sleep… not like she would have a choice if she kept going like this any longer. It was beginning to catch up to her and her eyes were starting to droop. 

She was nearly asleep…

SLAM!

She jumped nearly a foot in the air as she was completely startled out of her blissfulness by Sherlock slamming his hands flat on the table as he stood, grabbing his jacket. 

“What are you doing?” he asked her, “Sleeping? No time to sleep! We have a case, Kylie! Let’s go. What are you waiting for?”

Kylie let out a breath and ran a hand over her face, groggily. 

“What about the other tapes?” she asked. 

“We have everything we need,” he said as he handed her her scarf, and held out her coat to help her put it on. 

She groaned lightly before standing up and allowing Sherlock to help her with her jacket, turning around to have him promptly shove her scarf at her.

“Come on, we have everything we need,” he told her.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he turned to leave the room. 

“Back to London,” he told her as he turned to see her standing there, looking at him puzzled. 

He huffed, rolled his eyes and walked back to her, grabbing her hand to get her moving as he pulled her out of the room and back towards the train station. 

Almost as soon as he touched her, something shot through her body. It was small, but it was there. He stiffened as well and dropped her hand as if it had shocked him as soon as they started walking. 

She saw his eyebrow furrow in confusion as they walked in silence to the train station. 

He had felt it too…

Must have just been static electricity…

Yeah… that’s what it was…

*((@*(@)#

John yawned and descended the stairs the following morning, walking into the kitchen to make some tea. His date had gone horribly. The girl he had taken out hadn't shut up about her cats and the strange outfits that she dressed them up in. 

…that was the last time he let Stamford set him up…

He had barely gotten out of going over to her place. Granted he was single and male, he hadn't even wanted to go there. Not getting off was FAR better than walking into that commitment death trap. 

He ran a hand over his face as he walked into the living room to get his laptop, but the sight of something made him stop dead in his tracks. 

There, on the couch was Sherlock deep in thought as he stared at paper and pictures he had set up and arranged strategically over the fire place. Kylie was next to him on the small couch, asleep on his shoulder. Both looked like hell. Kylie’s hair was unruly as if she had ran her hand through it multiple times and Sherlock was getting the slight bags under his eyes that he got whenever he was on a case. 

That wasn't the strange part though. No, the weird part was that they both looked extremely peaceful. 

Sherlock Holmes was not a ‘touchy’ person by any stretch. Touch was the one thing in fact that would pull him out of his deep, trance-like thoughts. John had been yelled at multiple times by his flatmate for bumping him while he was thinking. Which is why him allowing their new neighbor to sleep on his shoulder as so strange. 

Sherlock hadn't even realized that John had woken up and come down the stairs, which was rare. Sure, his thought were were usually deep and he sometimes didn't hear him leave, but this kind of deep trance was rare for him. 

John paused and fought a smile as a thought occurred to him; what if Kylie’s touch was comforting to him? 

It was the next most logical thing. He doubted Sherlock had ever been in a relationship, let alone been comfortable with a woman’s touch. But he knew from his own personal experience and the one time he had been in love, that woman’s touch had made him think clearer, feel better, and caused all of his problems to melt away. That was him though; and was a long time ago… a very long time ago. 

Who knew with Sherlock though. The closest thing that that man had had to a relationship was that strange flirting game of chicken he had had with Irene Adler, and Lord knew that that was FAR from a true, not to mention healthy relationship. 

Maybe this girl really was good for him…

John smirked as he pulled his phone out of his robe pocket. Sherlock hadn't noticed him yet, and would probably kill him when he did, but he had to send this to Lestrade.

Blackmail was worth the risk. 

SNAP

The camera on his phone clicked as he took a photo of the pair. That noise however, was enough to bring Sherlock out of his thoughts. 

He sat up straight immediately, jerking forward, causing Kylie to awaken. 

“What was that?!” he asked as Kylie struggled to sit up, rubbing her eyes. 

“Huh?” she said, blinking a few times, missing what was going on. 

John just chuckled in response to Sherlock’s question, walking back into the kitchen as he sent the text to Lestrade. 

If there wasn't already a pool at the Yard over the pair, there was about to be now.

“John, what was that?” Sherlock asked again. 

“Nothing!” he yelled back as he laughed to himself, pouring himself a mug of tea. 

“I heard something. What was that noise?” Sherlock pried again as he walked back into the room, seeing Kylie yawn and stretch languidly. 

“Rough night?” John asked Kylie more than Sherlock, ignoring his prior question. 

Kylie ran a hand through her hair and smiled at him tiredly. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” she responded, “How was your date?”

“Horrible. I’m never letting anyone set me up ever again,” John said as he plopped himself in his chair with the paper. 

Kylie chuckled at him as Sherlock was still staring at John incredulously.

"That noise what was that noise? Did you take a picture?”

John looked at his flatmate for a moment before smiling sarcastically at him, “Who, me? I would never do such a thing.”

Kylie raised an eyebrow between the two, as Sherlock glared. 

“Yeah, I obviously missed something,” Kylie stated as she stood up, “I’m going to have a shower and make some breakfast. Can I bring you boys up anything?”

“No,” Sherlock said moodily before turning back to staring at the wall once more, resuming his thinking pose. 

“He means no thank you,” John said looking up at her, “Thanks for the offer though.”

She looked at Sherlock for a moment as she paused at the door. 

“Right…”

“You two working a case?” he asked her, Sherlock obviously no longer truly in the room as he was lost in his thoughts. 

“Yeah, well, one that Sherlock believes is a case,” Kylie told him as she looked back at the dark haired detective, intrigued by watching his mind work, "Three people disappeared right after I gave lectures at Cambridge and Edinburgh. Sherlock believes that they were inspired by my lectures and there for have let no bodies, evidence, or witnesses."

“He’s usually right about these thing, you know,” John told her. 

“I know,” she said smiling sadly at the doctor, “I just hope he isn't this time. If he is, its my fault those people are dead.”

John smiled at her sympathetically. He knew the feeling. It was one he had felt often on the battlefield. "You're not the one who killed them."

She laughed slightly, “Sherlock told me the same thing last night.”

John looked at her in slight shock.

Last night?

"Email." Sherlock said suddenly whipping his head around to look at Kylie. Both John and the woman were staring at him blankly, neither of them knowing what he was talking about, ”The email that was open on your laptop when I came by last night."

"What about it?” Kylie asked as John grinned at his friend. 

"You just 'came by' her place last night?"

That sentence earned a glared by Sherlock and a raised eyebrow from Kylie, before Sherlock turned his attention back to Kylie.

"It was asking you to speak at Cambridge on Friday."

She looked at him, slightly taken aback that he had read her email, yet not surprised, ”Yeah, but I'm not going to do it, especially after you told me you think people may be killed over it."

"You need to do it,” he told her firmly.

John looked at him incredulously once more, “You just said that people were killed over her lectures…”

“Yes, she needs to speak so that we can…”

“…look for the killer at my lecture,” Kylie finished for him. 

“Precisely,” he told her. 

Kylie held her gaze with him for a moment longer, running it through in her mind. 

“Okay,” she agreed, shrugging slightly, “its as good a plan as any,” she told them as she put her hand on the door before turning to look back at the men, “Oh, and I guess I should tell you now, that its a black tie affair. Hope you both have tuxes.”

She gave them one last smile and a wave before walking out of the flat, shutting the door behind her. 

John turned to look at Sherlock, shutting his paper. 

“If you wanted to sake her out, just ask her out. You don’t have to invent a case and an undercover job to impress her and get her to go out with you.”

It was Sherlock’s turn to look at her incredulously, “This IS a case John. I never invent cases. You of all people should know that,” he snapped. 

He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, his sight never leaving the pictures on the fireplace, “Why on earth would I try to impress her anyways? I’m just doing my job…”

“The job you invented,” John countered, getting Sherlock to take his eyes off the photos and glare at him. 

“I’m not like you, John. I don’t date,” he told him with disgust before turning back to the photos.

John smirked at his friend before reopening his paper once more. 

“You say that now,” he muttered, “Just you wait.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rest of story and sequel on Fanfiction.net all under same pen name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please leave thoughts!

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

John stared at Sherlock with a combination of slight amusement, and annoyance at his flatmate’s constant tapping on the table. 

It was the night of Kylie’s lecture and since about three in the afternoon, Sherlock had suddenly become uncharacteristically quiet and twitchy. He had been tapping a pen habitually on the table as he stared at the wall of evidence he had compiled on the wall. 

They hadn't gotten much farther on the case other than developing a few aspects of the ‘victims’ life before they disappeared. All of which concluded with the fact that they were all happy and had no reason to run away or try to disappear off the map. 

Kylie hadn't been around all day as she had to be at the Yard in the morning and fit in her run before she got ready and prepped for her lecture. It didn't show much, but John knew that Sherlock enjoyed the woman’s company. Her lack of presence at the flat today was obviously bothering him… that, or he was nervous for his ‘date’ that was now only about a half hour away. 

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap 

John looked back down at his laptop and began typing up the last case once more. 

“You going to shower before your date?” he asked him casually. 

“Date? Its not a date,” Sherlock snapped leaping up and standing in front of the fireplace, examining the pictures more closely. 

John looked back up at him from his seat in the armchair. 

“uh-huh,” he muttered as he kept typing, “You at least need to change your clothes.”

“What? Why? You haven’t changed” he said, spinning to face John. 

“Because I’m not going on your date. And you are trying to impress her,” John told him before he stopped typing on his laptop and really looked at his friend, “You do know how to go on a date, right?”

Sherlock just stared at him silently. 

“You have been on a date before?” John asked. 

“Of course he hasn’t, John,” Mycroft said as he strolled into the flat with a smile on his face, seeing his little brother’s displeasure, “That’s what makes this so much more fun.”

“Its not a date,” Sherlock said firmly, “We are attending a lecture in order to find a killer.” 

He paused, looking his brother up and down, “Why are you here anyhow?”

“I heard about your night tonight and I thought I’d drop by,” Mycroft answered cooly as he put a hand in his pocket. 

“How?” Sherlock pried.

“I have my sources,” Mycroft smiled at him, enjoying this FAR too much. 

Sherlock turned and glared at John. He just laughed and threw up his hands. 

“Oh, no,” John told him, “I didn't call him. Trust me.”

Sherlock huffed, looking back at the fireplace, trying to figure out who Mycroft’s source could possibly be.

“Lestrade did,” John grinned as he began typing once more. 

Sherlock huffed loudly and walked over to the table, sitting down once more and tapping his foot as he tried to ignore everyone else in the room. 

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

“You do remember how to behave on this ‘date’, dear brother?” Mycroft asked. 

“Not a date,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“Even if it’s not,” John inputted, “Still treat her well. You know, like a lady.”

Sherlock looked at him, thoroughly confused, “What else would she be?”

“A man,” Mycroft stated with a grin. 

John turned and gave him a look. 

“Its the twenty first century,” Mycroft told him with a smile. 

“She’s not a bloke!” John argued. 

“I know,” Mycroft stated once more, “I was simply stating what else she could be.”

John just gave the elder Holmes a look of exasperation before turning back to Sherlock. 

“Look, just make sure to compliment her, tell her she looks beautiful, open doors for her, pull out her chair, all that stuff.”

“She’s giving a lecture John, this isn't a date,” Sherlock argued once more. 

John gave him a look before he put his hands back on his laptop to type, “Two people getting dressed up, who enjoy each other’s company, and spend the evening together, is the definition of a date.”

“We are going to catch a killer.”

“For you, adding that into the mix, is your personal definition of a date,” John told him. 

Sherlock got up in a huff as he made his way back to the fireplace. 

“It is not a date. How many times do I have to say it?”

“You fancy her.”

“I do not fancy anyone.”

“How come you are nervous, then?”

“I am not nervous.”

“Oh really?” John asked with out looking up, “Then how come you can sit still, you are jumpy, and your hands are sweating?”

Sherlock paused and looked at his hands as if they had betrayed him. 

“Its a date.”

Sherlock made a noise between a huff and a growl before he stomped off towards his bedroom. 

“Make sure to change your clothes!” John yelled after him before the bedroom door slammed shut. 

John gave himself a self-satisfied smiled before he turned to look at Mycroft.

“You think he’ll be okay on this?” John asked him. 

“Heavens no,” Mycroft told him lightly as he sat in the armchair, “But I do know that Miss Gibbs will not hesitate to keep him on his toes and in line.”

John grinned at Mycroft as footsteps pounded up the stairs and Lestrade burst into the room, looking around. 

“Oh shit,” Lestrade told them as he shut the door behind him, “Did I miss them?”

“No,” John told him, “Kylie hasn't come up yet, and Sherlock is throwing a fit in his room.”

SLAM

Something heavy was dropped in Sherlock’s room at suspiciously those words. 

“YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A CHILD! MAN UP AND TAKE THE GIRL OUT ON A REAL DATE!” John yelled at him. 

THUMP THUMP

The bedroom door opened and Sherlock stepped out, wearing a new shirt and suit, which made John grin at him, annoying the detective even more. 

“Lets get a few things straight,” he began to say angrily before Lestrade caught his eye, “oh GOD! What are you doing here?”

“Came to see you off on your date,” Lestrade said as he grinned at him. 

Sherlock looked up and shut his eyes, nearly shaking with anger, before he stomped forward. 

“This, is not a date. This is a case. I am not like you all. I. Don’t. Date.”

“Then how come you changed?” John asked. 

Sherlock looked at him, “You told me to,” he told him, “Isnt this what I am supposed to do?”

“But the fact that you did it, brother dear, is what shows that you care about making an impression on the girl,” Mycroft stated with a smile. 

Sherlock’s face fell, much to Lestrade, Mycroft, and John’s pleasure before there was a knock on the door. 

“And that, must me Kylie,” John said as he got up and opened the door. 

John couldn't help but let his breath caught in his throat at the sight of his neighbor. 

“Holy Mary,” he muttered as he looked her up and down. 

Kylie blushed and fidgeted slightly as she smiled at him. 

She was dressed in a tight, figure hugging ball gown that flaunted her athletically toned body. The dress was a bright blue, that accented her eyes beautifully. Her hair had been curled and pinned back, showing her beauty for what it truly was. 

“What?” Kylie smiled at him, trying to recover from her embarrassment and hiding it well, “You boys never seen a girl in a dress before?”

“Just not an attractive anthropologist,” Lestrade inputed. 

She looked at him, and then to Mycroft before sighing and looking at John, “You told them we were going on a date, didn't you? Thats why you aren’t dress. You aren’t going?”

“I’m not crashing your date,” John told her with a smile. 

“And we wouldn't miss this for the world,” Lestrade grinned. 

Kylie looked at them before rolling her eyes and putting her hand on her hip, “Seriously? We are working a case. This isn't prom? And this most definitely isn't a date. He didn't ask me out, and I most definitely wouldn't come to pick him up and take him to my own lecture if it was. We are going to catch a killer, you all were invited to come along, but you blew this all out of proportion in your minds. So stop giggling about this like teenage girls and come back down to earth….”

Silence.

“Right Sherlock?” Kylie asked, finally taking her eyes off John and looking at Sherlock. 

The rest of the men in the room turned to look at him as he didn't respond, all having to fight a smile at his reaction. 

The detective was speechlessly staring at her, completely oblivious to the fact that she was talking to him. 

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock straightened and cleared his throat as he fought a blush from creeping up his neck before he grabbed his jacket off the table. 

“Precisely what I have been telling them,” he said as he walked over to her, motioning for her to walk down the stairs before him. He looked back at the men in the room as he grabbed the door handle, “Dont wait up.” he said before he shut the door a little harder than necessary. 

Silence.

“Yeah, that will go well,” John said as he was still staring at the door. 

“I don’t know whether to laugh or be jealous that the man everyone thinks is a psychopath and has no social graces has a hotter date than any of us,” Lestrade said bitterly as he shook his head. 

John laughed and looked at his computer. It was true. They really all should be jealous of Sherlock Holmes at the moment, but one thing stuck in John’s mind. 

…the way his best friend had been looking at her. 

He never had had a woman’s appearance throw him off his game.

Irene? Maybe? But she had been naked. That would throw any man with a pulse off his game, even Sherlock. 

It was strange, but maybe Sherlock wasn't as oblivious to his attraction to her as he had thought…?


	14. Chapter 14

Sherlock shut the front door of 221 and looked ahead to see Kylie standing on the curb, wrapping her dress jacket around her as she looked for a cab. Upon hearing the door shut, she turned and looked at him, giving him a glowing smile. 

God, she really did look stunning…

Dear LORD! Snap out of it!

"You ready to catch a killer?" Kylie asked turning her attention back to the street.

“Of course,” he replied as he walked up next to her and shifted awkwardly, “You… Um… look very lovely,” Sherlock said awkwardly, as he kept his eyes on the street. 

Kylie turned and smiled at him, a curious smirk on her face.

“Thanks,” she said giving him the once over, “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Sherlock turned and gave her a strange look as she smirked even more, looking back at the street. 

“I’m just shocked you actually put on a clean suit,” she smiled as a cab pulled up. 

She stepped into it, leaving a slightly stunned Sherlock behind. He felt a small smile spread out over his face before he followed her in. 

*(#()@@

Kylie threw her head back and laughed with Sherlock as they sat in the cab they had caught from the train station. 

“I think I would have paid to see that,” Kylie laughed, “I may have to use that against him if he breaks into my flat again.”

Sherlock chuckled once more beside her, “Call him Mike. It drives him up a wall.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely do that,” Kylie grinned next to him, “And take a spy bribe on you.”

“We’ll split the fee,” Sherlock told her. 

They smiled at each other in silence before they both busted up laughing once more. 

The cab slowed and pulled over to the station. Sherlock fished a few bills out of his pocket, paying the driver as Kylie hopped out of the cab, stepping out into the cool air once more, seeing the University spread out in front of her. 

“Ready?” Sherlock asked as he began to walk forward. 

“Yeah,” she said as she fell into step with him, her heels clacking on the ground, “What’s the plan?”  
“You lecture, I look for the killer, and once the main ball begins, we follow them and gather evidence,” Sherlock said simply. 

“Oh, thats it?” Kylie asked as he held the building door open for her, “And here I was expecting some elaborate plan using a blow dart, a slipper, and careful mathematical calculation.”

Sherlock gave her a strange look once more before she grinned and turned back to look at him. 

He covered up a smile as he caught up with her, walking towards the ball room, “That’s plan B,” he joked. 

“Oh,” Kylie stated with amusement, “I thought you’d want to show off.”

“The simplest answer is usually the correct one,” he stated as they approached the door. 

“Occam’s razor,” she smiled, “I like the way you think Mr. Holmes.”

“You should,” he chided, “I do know science a whole lot better than you do.”

Kylie stopped and glared at him, causing him to smile at her over his shoulder. She laughed bitterly and shook her head at him before they entered the ballroom together. 

As soon as they entered the room, they saw a man dressed in a tux and bow tie yelp excitedly before running over to them. 

“Oh Dr. Gibbs!” the man that Kylie knew as Dr. Jonathan Rompkins ran over and shook her hand, “The woman of the hour!” he gushed. “I have to tell you that we are SO happy that you agreed to speak tonight… and hopefully take a position here at Cambridge?” he added coyly. 

Kylie gave him a smile, “I told you Dr. Rompkins, I have taken a full time position with Scotland Yard.”

“Yes, but a man can hope we can get a brilliant and beautiful anthropologist like yourself to head up our newest department,” Dr. Rompkins smiled at her. It was only when Kylie blushed and didn't respond that he noticed Sherlock standing next to her. 

“Ah, you must be her… boyfriend?” he guessed, looking for a ring. 

“Oh, no…” Kylie laughed, waving her hand, “He’s not my…”

“Pleasure,” Sherlock said, shaking Dr. Rompkin’s hand with a warm smile that Kylie was not aware that he was capable of giving. 

The older man surveyed the pair of them, his gray eyes analyzing the pair. "I wasn't aware that you were bringing a date, Dr. Gibbs."

Kylie opened her mouth to comment, but Sherlock beat her to it. "Yeah you know this one, always trying to be humble. She claims that this isn't a big deal, but in the end, she asked me to come an support her,” he said as he snaked an arm around her waist pulling her tightly to him.   
Kylie heart began to beat like a congan drum at the closeness to Sherlock.

Keep your head straight, Kylie.

"I think she was nervous," Sherlock added looking down at the woman in his arms, “Though she’d never admit it.”

Kylie glanced at Sherlock taking the hint to play along as she tried not to shiver from the sensation of his fingers on her bare skin, "Yes, I'm afraid these lectures get the better end of my nerves." Kylie stated smiling at Dr. Rompkins.

The man smiled at the pair, “Well, you make a lovely couple. You are a very lucky man, Mr…”

“Holmes,” he said with a smile, “And that I really am.”

Rompkins gave them one last smile and turned around. As soon as his back was turned, both dropped their smiles and rolled their eyes, pulling away from each other.

Rompkins turned around once more to look back at them, causing Kylie and Sherlock to replaster smiles on their faces. 

“Come on then,” he smiled at them.

They walked forward, following Rompkins to a stage that had been set up in the middle of the ball room. The The room was eloquently decorated and there were already numerous guests that had arrived and were talking amongst themselves.

"You'll be lecturing here," Dr. Rompkins said, "we will be inviting you up on stage to speak near seven."

"Alright." Kylie said agreeing.

"Do you have any visuals?"

"Yes," Kylie said digging through her handbag and pulling out a flash drive and handing it to him.

Dr. Rompkins smiled and accepted the flash drive. "Very well Dr. Gibbs. I look forward to hearing you speak." He then turned to Sherlock, "Pleasure meeting you."

Sherlock gave him a smile as he walked away. Kylie turned to look at the clock, “Well, its only six o'clock now, what should we do dear?" Kylie asked glaring as she emphasized the last part.

"We're undercover," Sherlock retorted as he looked around. "I had to come up with a reason to be escorting you without looking suspicious."

"You couldn't have though of any platonic ways that dont prove John right?" Kylie asked through the gritted teeth of a fake smile as she saw another Cambridge staff member coming up to her.

“John doesn’t need to find out about this,” Sherlock told her, “He gets annoying when he thinks he’s right.”

The night went on of Kylie being bombarded by staff members, famous anthropologists, and donors. Sherlock however was able to escape for a few moments to survey the audience.

No one stood out to him right away. There was a French couple here, probably donors. They were wealthy, but they looked concerned. Probably based on the fact they had a son who was trying to gain entrance to the school. He had gotten that from the cafeteria stamp on his left hand. They were trying to by the son's entrance into the program. Not the killer.

There were a couple of History professors, biology professors, and Cambridge staff all attending. Sherlock doubted any of these people were the killers. He sighed to himself, they were going to have to wait until Kylie spoke to get any leads.

He didn't have to wait much longer before Dr. Rompkin's walked up on the stage and turned on the microphone. “Excuse me Ladies and Gentlemen." The voices in the ballroom faded away before he began to speak, ”As you all know, we are here tonight to raise money and promote our new Graduate program in forensic anthropology. To tell you more about this profession and what is studied along with it is one of the most well-respected forensic anthropologist's around, Dr. Kyliegha Gibbs."

The crowd clapped as Kylie walked up on stage kissing Dr. Rompkins on the cheek before taking the podium.

"Thank you,” Kylie said into the microphone. "The field of forensic anthropology is one that as of right now is quiet small. We do need more schools to offer education and graduate programs in this field. Forensic anthropologists are scientists who look at human remains, mainly the skeletal system to help identify victims and gather evidence of a crime." Kylie then looked down at the computer in front of her and the screen lit up behind her, showing the body from her first case in London.

“During my first case in the UK, I was asked to look at the body that you can see in front of you right now. Now, I was able to identify the body based on the race, sex, injuries, remodeling, and tissue markers on the body. "

Kylie then went on to describe the science by which she was able to deduce who the victim was and how she was killed. During this time, Sherlock was searching the crowd for the killer. He didn't see anyone that stuck out until he heard Kylie asked, "Are there any questions?"

A wealthy looking gentlemen in the front row raised his hand.

"Yes?" Kylie said pointing to the man.

"How on earth are you able to tell the race of a victim? Let alone identify their age?”

Kylie smiled, "That is an excellent question. You see, each race has identifying facial bone makers that help us identify the race." Kylie pulled up a slide, "For example, we can tell by the width of check bones, nasal cavity, and orbital cavity." Kylie pointed it out on the screen with a laser.

"Yes, but Dr., how is one able to determine all this if the body has been destroyed completly?"

Sherlock's head whipped around to see who asked the question. It was a man in his early fifties. He looked to be extremely wealthy, wearing a Westwood suit worth at least 800 pounds . His salt and pepper hair sculpted perfectly as he smiled at Kylie like the cat who ate the canary.

This had to be him.

Kylie paused for a moment looking at him, her eyes flitting to Sherlock before answering, "There are many things we can still read from a body that one has thought they had destroyed. Hell we can still get evidence from ashes. If someone commits a murder, I will promise you this; we WILL catch them."

The room was silent and the man just stood there smirking at her.

This was definitely the guy.

Feeling the tension in the room Dr. Rompkins came back up onto the stage.

"Ah well, thank you Dr. Gibbs! Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our lecture portion of the night, I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening"

Kylie pressed past Rompkins, leaving the stage as fast as she could to get to Sherlock.

"That has to be him,” she said trying to keep track of where he was in the now crowded room as soon as she got over to him. 

Sherlock was about to answer when guest began to bombard her once more with questions.

"That was such a lovely lecture!”

"How on earth do you notice all of that?"

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen," Sherlock said taking Kylie by the hand, "I was promised a dance by my lovely girlfriend."

Sherlock then led her to the dance floor, putting a hand on her hip and beginning to dance to the music.

"Thank you," Kylie said. She was eternally thankful that he had pulled her away from the rest of guest.

"You're welcome," Sherlock said smiling at her for a moment or two as they danced to the music.

His eyes are so blue.

Sherlock suddenly broke eye contact.

"Keep your eyes on him." Sherlock told her quietly. 

She looked around for the man as they danced, her eyes finally finding him as he leaned up against the wall staring her down; smirking. 

Sherlock felt her tighten his grip on shoulder slightly. 

“God, he’s a creep,” she muttered to him. 

Sherlock pulled her tighter to him as he turned her so that he was now staring at the man. 

“Good thing we are going to bring him down now, isn't it?” he told her quietly fighting the feeling that was erupting from within him with her this close. 

He couldn't explain it, but he felt the need to pull her tighter to him as she was slightly afraid of the man across the room; trying to keep her out of harms way. 

He felt the need to protect this woman. Sure, he had been raised to never allow a woman to be hurt in his presence, but there was something different about this woman. 

Damn John for putting thoughts in his head…

Thats all this was; thoughts that John had implanted. Not feelings. He didn't have feelings. 

He felt Kylie stiffen for a slight moment before slowly relaxing in his arms. 

“We still need to find out who he is,” she said quietly in his ear. 

Sherlock’s mind ran a million miles a minute as he calculated their best possibility to figure out the man’s identity. 

He stopped dancing and pulled away, looking at Kylie. 

“I have a plan. Follow my lead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full story and sequel posted on fanfiction.net under the same pen name. 
> 
> Thoughts?


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